Believe
by dakota423
Summary: Wendy's grandaughter is stuck between proving herself to her parents and dreaming of Peter Pan. But when Pan himself shows up and takes her to the Neverland, will she stay or break Peter's heart again? rating changed. FINISHED! YAY!
1. chapter one: Emily

disclaimer: i don't own Peter Pan, much to my dismay. But my dreams are a totally different story...

summary: Wendy's grandaughter is stuck between proving herself to her tough parents and dreaming of Peter Pan. But when Pan himself shows up at Emily's window and takes her to the Neverland, she has countless adventures that other children only dream about. But the time comes when she has to make a choice: will she stay in Neverland or go back to London and break Peter's heart again?

Rating: PG-13, cause fighting and kissy scenes might get me in trouble if I post this as a PG fic...

author's note: Okay, so I've always loved Peter Pan. Just the thought of flying and never growing up makes me want to go to Neverland and fight alongside Peter and defeat Captain Hook time and time again. But alas, I'm thirteen and growing up against my will. But I've vowed to be a child in my heart. So, enough of this personal talk. Onto the story!

I saw the 2003 movie in theaters and was instantly in love: one with the storyline and two with Jeremy Sumpter. Okay, maybe Jeremy first, but that doesn't matter! So when the DVD came out I just had to have it and I got it for Christmas '04. I've watched it everyday since, and that's **not** an exaggeration. So after memorizing every expression of every word of every actor/actress in every scene, I moved onto the bonus features. I watched the alternate ending and went "Ooh! Story idea!" So this is what emerged. Hard to imagine an anime-fic writer writing a Peter Pan fic, ain't it? Oh well, enjoy!

((PS: this takes place in the December of 2004, so its present-day stuff, well, most of it))

**Believe**

chapter one:

Emily Darling-Smith walked home in the late afternoon rain, her books tucked under her arm. She walked as fast as she could so as her homework wouldn't get wet. She knew Mum and Dad would be terribly upset if she was late getting home again, so she sped up her pace a little more, narrowly avoiding a large puddle.

Emily lived in a large three-story house on the corner of the street with her mother Jane, her father Marcus, her twin brothers James and George, and her grandmother Wendy. There was also the dog, Nana and Emily's cat, Tiger.

Marcus Smith was the CEO of a large company in central London, who believed that children should be disciplined strictly, just as he was when he was growing up. He worked hard, pushing the rest of his family to do so as well, and knew the right punishment for every wrong performed. But his did not mean he was a harsh father; by all means, he was quite nice and pleasant to be around, so long as you were talking about either money or sports.

Jane Darling, having kept her maiden name when she married Marcus at her mother's insistence, was a teacher who made sure that all her children had straight A's by report card time. She was full of laughter and smiled all of the time, save for when she graded papers. But Jane also had a strong sense of right and wrong manners, and would not tolerate smart-allick children in her house.

Both of them were about as down-to-earth as a ton of lead tied to a bird's feet.

James and George were eight and as much alike as twins could be. Both of them were excellent students, something Emily would never have. They were always on the good side of Mum and Dad, a place Emily would never be. They were never late to school or late to gettting home, whereas Emily nearly always was. They were everything that Emily wasn't. Their only difference was that James had a gigantic interest in sailing and planned to join the British Royal Navy, while George spent most of his freetime saving or counting money or helping Dad with taxes.

And then there was Grandma Wendy, who Emily so lovingly called Gran. Grandma Wendy spent most of her days in Emily's room, sitting at the window and doing needlepoint (something Emily had never been good at, no matter how hard she practiced) of faeries and pirates and wild boys. She hardly ever spoke to anyone in the family, except Emily, and Emily took great joy in this. It meant that Emily was appreciated by someone. But for some reason, the moment she and Emily were alone in the room together, Grandma Wendy would come alive with stories of her childhood adventures. You see, Wendy Darling was a great storyteller, even in her old age. Emily loved to listen to her grandmother's stories. They were always about a boy who never, ever wanted to grow up and his adventures with the faery Tinker Bell and the Lost Boys. Grandma Wendy said that she herself had been on adventures with Peter Pan when she was a girl, and everytime she said so, she would look at her grandaughter with a pleading blue eyes that begged Emily to believe what she was saying. Emily wanted to believe so badly, because somehow her Gran was the only person she couls imagine flying, fighting, or giving thimble kisses to boys who had no parents and never wanted to grow up. But sometimes Emily couldn't believe, despite how much she wanted.

As she hurried home, her thoughts drifted to the elfin boy that often visited her dreams.

Emily had always dreamed about Peter Pan, ever since she could remember. She dreamed she was fighting alongside him agianst the notorious Captain James Hook, who was Peter's sworn enemy. When she wasn't fighting Hook, she and Peter were flying all around Neverland. But alas, they were only dreams, and dreams were very hard to make come true.

She sighed as she walked up the front steps and opened the door. Her daydreaming had made her late. Emily groaned when she heard her mother call her name from the living room.

"Perfect," she mumbled, and she stepped inside.

She never saw the leaf-clad boy hovering in the branches of a nearby tree, his bright green eyes sparking as he watched Emily walk inside.

author's note: so? what do y'all think? Yes, short first chapter, but the next one'll be much longer! Promise! Cross my heart! But really, what did you think? I want reviews! And i don't care if none of my "Element of Love" fans don't review, cause i honestly think you guys would have an interest in this story. but then again, there could be some other eclectic people out there like me, so y'all might read it after all! But whoever you are, Review!!!


	2. chapter two: Peter Returns

disclaimer:...I **wish** i owned Peter Pan, but, sadly (for me anyway) some hospital in London owns the rights to him...hmm, i might have to take over said children's hospital and get the rights to it... but then I'd be stealing millions of children's dreams! so scratch that idea...i don't own him.

author's note: Heeloo, boyos! And girlos, too, i spose... but anyway! I'm back with the next chapter of _Believe_! this chapter's gonna be much longer than the first one, so I hope you like it!

chapter two:

Emily was first met by Nana, who was the family's St. Bernard. Originally, Nana had been Grandma Wendy's nurse when she was a girl. But the name had stuck, and so any dog living in the Darling house was named Nana. The present Nana wasn't a nurse, of course, but she still made sure that the twins had their baths every night.

"Hello, Nana," Emily said glumly, patting Nana's head and setting down her schoolbag.

"Emily," her mother called from the living room again. "Could you come in here for a moment, please?" Mum's voice was much too calm. Emily instantly knew she was in trouble.

Somberly, she walked into the living room. Her mother and father sat on one of the sofas, their faces expressionless. Emily's heart lept into her throat. Those types of faces were never good. In her father's hand was an opened envelope. Instead of staying in her throat, her heart climbed even higher to suffocate her by lodging itself in her nose. But what scared her even more was the fact that Grandma Wendy was sitting in an armchair next to the window.

"Emily, please sit down," her dad said, gesturing to the other couch across from them.

Emily did as she was told and folded her hands in her lap. She knew what was in the letter, and she dreaded her punishment.

Yesterday in school, Emily had started to daydream about Peter Pan, and in turn had absentmindedly drawn a picture of she and Peter flying over the Jolly Roger, swords in hand, with Hook on the deck of the ship, brandishing the iron hook he had as a right hand. Naturally the teacher had caught her not doing her work and had taken the picture.

Emily was held after school and questioned by her teacher. When asked who the other person in the picture was, she replied "A boy" and the teacher lost it. She wrote a rather angry letter to Emily's parents that mentioned things about 'planned violence' and 'unappropriate behavior'. Emily figured the 'unappropriate behavior' referred to the fact that in the picture she and Peter were holding hands. But it wasn't like it meant anything. But the teacher had included the picture with the letter and then sent it to the post office. From that point on, She knew she was doomed. Now, she was recieving the consequences of her actions.

"We recieved this letter from your teacher," Marcus began. "According to her, you have been daydreaming in class. Have you?"

"Well, yes, Dad, but---"

"Emily, in your teacher's letter, she says that you drew something that was inappropriate for school," said Jane. She took the envelope from her husband and pulled out the picture. She held it out to Emily. "Would you care to explain this to us?"

"Mum, its just a picture---"

"Then if its just a picture, you wouldn't mind tellin us about it." Jane smiled. "go on. Who are the people in this picture?"

Emily swallowed heavily, then took the picture. "The girl is me."

"And who is the boy?"

"Peter Pan," she muttered in reply.

"Who?"

"Peter Pan," Emily repeated a little louder.

"I see. And this man on the ship?"

Emily looked at her hands. "Captain Hook."

"Ah-hah, and what are you and Peter Pan doing?"

"We're flying, Mum." Emily was beginning to get angry. Her mother was questioning her like a criminal. Or even worse, a child!

"I see."

This 'I see' business was very annoying to Emily. It was all her mother was saying!

"And why are you carrying swords?"

Emily thought a moment. Maybe she should should just leap up and begin to rant and rave about Neverland? No, she told herself. Bad idea. Things would get even worse.

"We're going to fight Captain Hook."

"And why?"

That was it.

"Why? Please, Mum. Gran had to have told you all of her stories when you were young! Don't you remember?" Emily stood as she spoke. "About Peter Pan and Tinker Bell and the Lost Boys? And Hook? Surely you must remember the most maniacle man in all history?"

"That man, Emily, was Adolf Hitler," corrected Marcus harshly. Not some crazy fantasy character with a hook for a right hand. Now sit back down."

"Yes, sir." Emily sat back down, then looked at her mom. "Didn't Grandma Wendy tell you her stories?" she asked again, much more calmly this time.

"Yes, Emily, she told me all of them. Even about Neverland." Jane shook her head. "But that's all they are: stories. Fantasies. They aren't real."

It was a this moment that Wendy looked away from the window and spoke.

"Excuse me, Jane, but I remember very well a young girl who dreamed every day that Peter Pan would come to her window and take her to Neverland. What right have you to ruin the dreams of a child? I certainly never ruined yours."

"Exactly, Mother. You only incouraged them. And Emilly is no longer a child, if you haven't noticed. She is a young woman."

Wendy held up her chin proudly, looking down her nose at her grandaughter. "I see a girl who wishes to believe the truth, Jane. Emily, what do you think is the truth? What do you believe?"

Emily saw the pleading look in her grandmother's eyes, and she instantly felt like she believed. Everything her Gran talked about was suddenly true, and she now knew it.

"Well, Emily?" prompted Marcus.

Emily looked at her parents. She held her chin up proudly like her grandmother. "I believe---no, I know---that the stories Gran tells me aren't just stories. They're true, they really happened. Peter Pan is real. I know so."

Wendy smiled at her grandaughter. Jane and Marcus somehow retained their neutral expressions.

"Emily, go up to your room, please," said Jane, taking back the picture.

"Yes, ma'am."

Emily left the living room as politely as she could, only to sulk up the stairs to her room. She sat in the rocking chair by the window that her grandmother always kept open and began to cry.

"If you're real, wherever you are, please Peter Pan, take me away to Neverland. Please."

Later on that night, Grandma Wendy came into Emily's room to tuck her into bed. The old woman sat on the edge of the even older bed, smoothing out the blankets on her grandaughter.

"Gran?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Is Peter Pan truly real?"

Wendy smiled. "That is for you to decide. Do you believe in him?"

"I suppose so." Emily frowned. "But if he is real, why doesn't he ever come? To the window like you said he did?"

"He comes when he pleases. Now goodnight, child." Wendy made to stand, but Emily spoke again.

"Gran?"

"Yes?"

"Could you tell me a story?"

Wendy blinked, then nodded. "Of course, dear." She settled herself back onto the bed. "Which one would you like to hear?"

"The one about when you went to Neverland with Peter Pan."

Wendy smiled even wider and stood. She made her way over to the jewelry box and opened it up. Emily began to protest, since the jewelry box was hers, but held her tongue when Wendy lifted up the bottom of the box to reveal a secret compartment that Emily had never known about. From this Wendy pulled a small trinket on a gold chain. She clutched it for a moment, then replaced the jewelry tray and closed the box and walked back to the bed and sat back down.

"Once upon a time," Wendy began, handed the trinket to Emily, "There was a boy who never wanted to grow up."

Emily stared at the trinket with intention. It was a small acorn, strung onto a thin gold chain, with a hole in the middle, as if it had been pierced.

Grandma Wendy continued on with the story. Her voice was full and alive with emotion as she spoke of her short time with Peter Pan. She described the 'kiss' (which turned out to be the acorn) he gave her, and how it saved her life. She told of learning to fly and to fight, about the Indians and the Lost Boys and the pirates, about the fairy dance, about the mermaids, everything.

Emily lay in bed, listening to her grandmother tell the story, her eyes wide as she held the acorn kiss. She soaked in every ounce of the story, believing every word.

"But I was never to see Peter Pan again," Wendy finished.

"Did you mind very much?"

Wendy shook her head. "No. I knew he would forget. He has so many adventures."

Emily looked at the acorn kiss still clutched in her hand. "Goodnight, Gran." She handed the kiss back.

"Goodnight, dear one." Wendy kissed her grandaughter's forehead. When Emily fell asleep, she stood and walked over to the window. She looked out at the night sky, feeling the chilled December breeze blow in, and along with it, a faint tinkling of bells. Wendy shook her head and shut and locked the window.

Deep inside Wendy, a part of her knew that Peter would eventually come back for her. That was why she left the window open. But tonight...something felt different.

Wendy glanced out the window once more, then walked over to the fireplace. She picked up her needlepoint and sat down in her rocking chair. As she began to work, she felt a breeze. The fire began to flicker wildly, and instinctively she looked to the window.

A light dusting of snow was blowing in the now-open window. Then, two dirt-covered feet stepped onto the window sill. The feet were followed by the body of a boy, clad in a suit of leaves. The boy tiptoed into the room and toward the bed where Emily slept.

"Wendy?" The boy stepped closer to the bed, the moonlight catching his features and revealing a shock of sun-bleached brown hair. "Wendy, I have come for you."

From the fireplace, Wendy spoke. "Hello, Peter."

Peter Pan turned and faced the sillouheted figure by the fire. The boy didn't notice that Wendy was now an old woman.

"There you are." He looked back at the bed. "Is that John?"

"No. John is not here now."

Peter smiled carelessly. "Then it's Michael."

"Michael has gone too."

Peter looked at the bed again, confused. "Is it---a new one?"

"Yes." Wendy frowned as Peter looked at the bed and grinned. "I cannot come with you, Peter. I have forgotten how to fly."

Peter scoffed. "I shall soon teach you again."

Wendy stood. "It is more than that." Peter gasped as she moved to the lamp.

"No!" Peter shook his head, backing away at Wendy's new height. "No, don't turn up the light."

But Wendy turned it up anyway, then turned to face Peter, who was still backing up.

"Oh, Wendy," he breathed, "You shouldn't have."

"I couldn't help it, Peter." Wendy tried to smile. "I'm an old woman now."

Peter shook his head stubbornly. "No. You're not."

Wendy nodded. "I am, Peter. Look at me." But he only looked away. Wendy continued. "I'm an old widowed woman. When I came back to London, I knew I would grow up. I told you that. Before long, I knew you weren't going to come back for me."

"But I have come back, Wendy!" said Peter, stomping his foot. "I came to take you on more adventures!"

"I am too old, Peter."

As silence passed as Peter looked at the floor.

"Then who is she?" he asked finally.

"That is my grandaughter, Emily."

"No, she is not."

Peter pulled his dagger from its sheath and walked over to the bedside. He stared at Emily as she slept, then back at Wendy, then back at Emily, different emotions playing over his young face as he realized how much the girl looked like the Wendy he used to know. He sheathed his dagger and sat on the bed next to Emily. The boy gently reached out and touched her lips with his fingertips. He cocked his head to the side slightly and smiled.

"I should like to give her a kiss," he concluded quietly.

Wendy stepped forward. "No, Peter. No acorns, no thimbles. I couldn't stand to see her heart broken." She shook her head. "No, I won't allow it."

Peter looked at Wendy. "No. I mean a _real_ kiss."

"No, Peter!"

Peter put his hand on Emily's cheek and leaned down. His lips met hers in a soft, sweet kiss. He lingered a moment before pulling away and watched Emily smile in her sleep, which made him grin from ear to ear. He looked back at Wendy, whose emotion was quite difficult to place; she looked strung between anger and worry.

"I will come for her tomorrow night," Peter stated simply.

"No," replied Wendy sternly. "I will not have you stealing the hearts of my grandchildren."

"I **will** come for her tomorrow, Wendy," Peter said, his voice just as stern. "If I can't take you to Neverland, then I shall take someone who wants to go, like your grandaughter."

"How do you know she will want you to take her away?"

Peter looked at Emily, his green eyes sparkling mischieviously. "She'll want to come." He leaned on the footboard of the bed. "We'll go on adventures. I'll teach her to fight and to fly. And she'll tell stories!"

"Have you not heard a thing I have said, Peter Pan?" She is not going with you to the Neverland, not now, not ever! I will not see her heart broken. Not like mine."

But Peter, being only a boy, did not understand what it meant to be heartbroken. Therefore, he straightened and looked at Wendy.

"I hope you change your mind, Wendy. Because tomorrow night, Emily comes to Neverland with me."

Wendy's eyes narrowed. "And if she doesn't want to come? What then, Peter? Will you force her?"

"She'll come." Then without warning, Peter took off out the window, calling behind him "And don't you try to stop her!"

Wendy rushed to the window and watched Peter disappear into the stars.

"Peter!"

Emily was awoken by her grandmother's shout. She sat up drowsily, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

"Gran? What's going on?"

Wendy turned around. "Nothing, child." She walked over to the bed. "Go back to sleep."

Emily lay back down. "I had the strangest dream, Gran. Can you guess who it was about?"

"Who?"

"Peter Pan! I dreamt he was right next to me and he gave me a kiss. Can you believe it?"

Wendy put on a nervous smile. "Yes, child. I can."

"I suppose that's enough bedtime stories for me. After all, I am thirteen."

"Yes, well, go back to sleep. Goodnight, dear."

" 'Night."

Emily rolled back over and shut her eyes. Wendy sat there a moment longer before standing. She shut and locked the window again, and turned down the lamp. She looked at her grandaughter one last time before she whispered into the dark.

"Do not be too rough with him, dear. He is a sweet boy underneath the tough exerior." She nearly shut the door, but decided to add "And watch out for pirates. Oh, and mermaids, too."

And she shut the door.

Peter would be true to his word. If he didn't change his mind and come for her tonight (which he would probably do anyway), Emily would be in Neverland two days hence.

Most of you are probably wondering 'Well why doesn't Wendy just stop Peter from taking Emily to Neverland?' Wendy would, you see, but she trusted and loved Peter too much to persuade him to change his mind. Besides, Peter was much too proud to ever change his mind. In fact, to this day, he still is.

author's note: woot! finally, the Boy Wonder enters! okay, so thats actually Robin, but who cares?...Other than you Teen Titan freaks and Batman luvers, okay? I know y'all's opinion. So what did y'all think? I thought this was a pretty good use of the alternate ending from the DVD. I mean, sure, it needed editing, but it turned out great, i think. SO review and tell me whatcha think! Kay? You better, or i'm sending my faery after all of you! and if there's more people than Koda's faery can handle, i'll just get my faery to get his friends and a whole troop 'o faeries'll come after y'all! ....yeah, that's supposed to be a threat...so review!!!!


	3. chapter three: Flying and Stories

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Peter Pan. But I do spend every waking moment of my life wishing I did...

Author's Note: Thanks so much to the people who reviewed! I'm so glad that you liked it! So as thanks here's the third chapter! I hope you like it!

chapter three:

Emily awoke for a second time that night to a rather loud racket. She sat up quickly to see a bright light buzzing around her room. But her eyes were too clouded with sleep and her mind too jumbled with dreams to fully comprehend what was happening. Before long, she found herself staring into the face of a young boy, no older than fourteen, who was perched on the footboard of her bed.

She practically jumped out of her bed with the double take. Emily shouted out as she fell in a heap onto the floor.

"Oh good! You're awake!" was the first thing the boy said when Emily fell to the floor.

"Who are you?" Emily nearly shouted. But somewhere inside of her she felt no reason for alarm. Or a reason to ask whom the boy was, for she already knew the answer very well.

The boy jumped off the footboard and landed lightly on the floor, as if he had floated. He held out a dirty hand.

"Who are you?" Though he as well knew the answer.

Emily looked at his hand for a moment before taking it and being pulled up. He was taller than she was, she noticed now that she was standing.

"My name is Emily," she said. "Emily Moira Darling."

The boy smiled. "Peter Pan." And then he bowed.

Emily was somewhat surprised by this, because she expected Peter Pan to be a wild boy, no matter how much Grandma Wendy said he was a gentleman. But she didn't let this faze her for long, and she curtsied in reply as best as she could.

"Why are you here, Peter Pan?" she asked truthfully, sitting on her bed. "Have you lost your shadow again?"

Peter scowled and looked at the floor behind him, checking for his shadow. "No," he said. "I still have it." He sat in the floor and glanced around the room. Almost immediately his imagination kicked in and rearranged the furnishings in the room to the way they were when he first entered the Darling home. Emily became Wendy, in her nightgown, clutching an acorn that was strung on a gold chain about her neck, smiling at him... And then everything melted back to the present. "This place hasn't changed much. Where's Wendy? I expected she'd be guarding you."

"Huh?" Emily watched Peter examine her bedroom, then zone out while staring at her, then snap out of his daze and smile at her. Was he okay? "Why would Gran be guarding me?"

Peter grinned his elfin smile, his green eyes shining.

"No reason." He stood and walked over to the bed, standing in front of Emily with his hands on his hips and feet apart. ((From now on this will be called the Pan stance)) "I'm bored." And he plopped right back down in front of Emily. He looked around again, and then back to Emily. "Tell me a story!"

"ButI don't know many stories," Emily said. "I've never actually told any."

"You must know some stories," Peter insisted.

"Only the ones my Gran told me."

"Then tell me one of those!"

"But they're all about you," informed Emily. Persistent little bugger.

Peter grinned triumphantly. "Well, let's hear one."

"You're a little conceited, don't you think?"

The boy's expression turned to what screamed "Huh?"

"What's that mean?" he asked.

Emily shook her head. "Never mind. But I'm not telling a story. I don't want to."

Peter hopped up and crossed his arms. "Then we'll go to Neverland anyway!" He took her hand and led her to the window.

"But Peter," protested Emily. "I can't fly!"

"I'll teach you. I'll teach you how to ride the winds and sail through the clouds. You'll love it."

"But"

"Haven't you ever wished that you could just stop worrying about everything, Emily?" Peter let go of her hand and stared into her blue eyes. "About school or growing up?"

Emily looked at the floor. "Well, yes, but"

Peter continued. "And earlier today. Didn't you beg me to come and take you to Neverland?" He looked absolutely smug with himself at knowing all this information.

Emily's head shot back up. "You heard that?"

Peter shrugged. "I was right outside you window." He didn't mention that when he had heard, he thought that Emily was Wendy.

"You were?"

"Yup. Now are you coming or not?" He made his way to the window.

"I already told you: I can't fly."

Peter scoffed. "Its easy. All you do is think happy thoughts!" He exaggerated this point by leaping into the air and flying around the room. Emily laughed.

Happy thoughts, she pondered. Going to Neverland, perhaps. Or my dreams coming true...

"That's it, Emily!" exclaimed Peter from somewhere. "You're doing it! You're flying!"

Emily opened her eyes and found herself hovering a few feet in the air. With a gasp, she lost her happy thought in shock and fell for the second time that night.

"Ow!"

From behind her, Peter laughed. Emily groaned and stood, rubbing her smarting backside.

"That wasn't funny, Peter," she said, turning to berate the boy, but he wasn't there.

"Peter?"

She turned and met Peter face to face, his grin spreading from ear to ear. Emily jumped, but settled back down just as quickly.

Peter turned his head and scanned the room. "Tink!" he hissed. "Tinker Bell! Where are you? I need your help."

And a small bright light came out from behind a bookcase (knocking a couple of books off of the shelf as she went and making a rather large racket) and flew over to Peter. Emily gasped.

"A faery!"

Tinker Bell looked at Emily, her eyes wide. Then, the faery stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry. Emily looked appalled.

"I beg your pardon!"

Peter smushed Tinker Bell down out from in front of them. "Don't be so rude, Tink."

"I thought faeries were nice," Emily said while glaring at Tinker Bell, who was glaring right back.

"She's nice," Peter explained. "Just not very polite. Tink, I need some faery dust."

Tinker Bell shook her head. Peter growled and snatched her out of the air and shook her roughly, creating shimmery clouds of gold. The dust settled into Emily's hair and then she was floating again, Peter along with her. She yelped in surprise again.

"I _really_ wish you would stop doing that," Emily said, but she couldn't stop smiling anymore than she could scold herself for doing so.

"Now, let's go." Peter took her hand in his and flew to the window, pulling Emily behind him.

"Wait, Peter What about my parents? And Gran?" Emily sunk to the windowsill. She turned to look back at her room, and then finally heard Nana's barking. They were followed by footsteps, and then, voices. Her parents' voices.

Peter flew up behind her, placing one hand on her shoulder. He brought his lips to her ear.

"Forget them, Emily," he whispered. "Forget about them and come to Neverland. Then you'll never have to worry about grown up things again."

Emily swallowed heavily, and then shut her eyes. To never worry about adult things again, she mused mentally. Nothing to worry about...

She opened her eyes and took Peter's hand.

It would be nice to tell you that Emily's parents made it to her room in time and stopped her from going to Neverland. But then there would be no story, now would there?

Flying was exactly like Grandma Wendy said it was. The rush of wind in your ears, the feeling of zero gravity, the sharp bite of the snow on your cheeks, everything. It was so...exhilarating.

"Peter?"

The boy finished off a wild loop and flew up next to her. "Yeah?"

"When will we get to Neverland?"

Peter laughed and held out his hand. Emily took it and held on tight, feeling their speed increase.

"The fast way it is, then," he laughed. "Hold on tight and do **not** let go!"

On the word 'go' Peter flung himself forward into a stream of air current, Emily in tow. Instantly, they were swept away into the sky and toward the stars. Before she knew it, Emily Darling found herself zooming over and ocean of stars (as Peter himself displayed by slapping the lukewarm water at her) to the island that was Neverland.

Emily was overcome with a great feeling of awe upon seeing the land. Was this how Gran felt? she thought, releasing Peter's hand.

"Its so beautiful."

Peter laughed. "It's okay." He took her hand again. "C'mon! Let's go!"

"Go where?"

With his elfin grin, he replied, "You'll see."

They landed sometime later in a patch of forest. The trees were taller than the clock tower in London, and every inch of it was green. Green as far as the eye could see, which wasn't really far considering the abundance of foliage.

"Where are we?" Emily asked, looking around. She quickly noticed something missing.

"Peter?"

"Shh!" came his voice from somewhere in the trees.

"Where are you?" Emily hissed in no particular direction. "Peter?"

"Over here."

Emily turned and turned in circles, trying to spot out Peter, until she was dizzy. "Where? And why are you hiding?" she called out before falling to the leafy forest floor. It took her a while for everything to stop spinning, and when it did, her eyes met another pair of eyes. Eyes that definitely weren't Peter's.

"Well, well, well," said the man, for with his deep voice, it could only be a man, "What do we have here?"

Emily head began to spin again when she tried to focus on the forming group in front of her. It looked like a bunch of grown-ups, and from the flashes of silver, they must have been armed. With swords.

"I dunno, Cap'n," said another voice, another man. "Looks like some kind of overgrown faery. Odd clothes for an Injun."

"She looks strangely...familiar," said the first man. Emily's head finally slowed to a halting stop when she shuddered. This man's voice was like ice: cold and harsh. Or it felt like it, anyway. And if this group in front of her was armed, was she in danger? And where was Peter? Still playing hide and seek in the bushes?

"Aye, Cap'n," replied the second man.

She could see straight now. The men before her were all brandishing swords or loading pistols. All of them were leering at her, revealing horrible teeth. In the middle of the group was a litter being supported by four of the men. On the litter was the man who plagued her nightmares.

From his blazing forget-me-not blue eyes to the iron hook that was his right hand, Captain James Hook was right there in front of Emily. Her first thought was to run, but it was followed by 'Isn't he supposed to be dead!'

But her thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"You, girl!" Hook shouted. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

Emily stood defiantly. Nobody ordered her around.

"I'm Emily Darling. I have come here to tell stories. And what right have you to order girls around?"

Hook laughed, a noise that made Emily flinch. "Well, Miss Darling. To whom have you come to tell stories?"

Now, you see, one of Emily's weak points was speaking before she thought. It had gotten her into loads of trouble before in London, but never so much as it had now.

"To Peter Pan." Upon realizing her mistake, she threw her hand across her mouth. "Whoops."

Hook smirked evilly. "Peter Pan, you say? Well now, dear lady, where is dear Pan?"

"No idea, actually." Emily crossed her arms. It _was _the truth, although she could have sworn she heard a groan from a nearby bush.

"So then you wouldn't mind to come aboard my ship and tell stories to my crew?" Hook implied charmingly. "The lads love a good story." All of the pirates nodded eagerly.

Emily thought a moment. For one, she knew that Hook was a madman who killed and pillaged for pleasure. But his offer was quite generous, and considering the fact that she was alone in front of a band of murderous pirates and Peter was nowhere to be seen... going with Hook wasn't a half-bad offer.

_Sorry Peter_, she thought. _But you aren't even here to tell me otherwise. Your loss_.

"All right, I accept."

Hook threw his, well, hand and hook, into the air. "Marvelous! Boys, make way for the lady! Wendy, welcome aboard the _Jolly Roger_!"

"Its Emily," she stated as she climbed onto the litter.

Hook ignored her. "To the ship, you dogs!"

A murmured "Aye, aye, Cap'n" and the litter was lifted up and carried away, leaving only empty forest.

Emily was brought aboard the _Jolly Roger_ and prompted to tell a story the moment she set foot on the deck. Sure, she wasn't quite the storyteller her grandmother was; she couldn't even stand up in front of class to give a report. But some of the talent did manage to be passed ononly a hint, mind youso Emily told the story of Snow White, it being the only one that came to mind.

"And they all lived happily ever after," she finished. The pirates who weren't in tears began to applaud.

"Bravo!" praised Hook. "Bravissimo!"

Emily grinned. "Thank you."

Hook took her by the arm and led her to a cabin. He opened the door and showed her inside.

"This will be your quarters, m'dear. Dinner is at six."

Emily looked at the sun outside. "But its not even noon. Am I to be locked up in here till then?"

"Of course!" Captain Hook began to howl with laughter, and so did the rest of the pirates behind him.

_Brainwashed idiots,_ Emily thought, shaking her head.

"My dear," continued Hook, "you are merely bait for that wretched Peter Pan."

"Why do you hate him so much?" Emily asked, trying to buy time as two men tied her hands and feet together.

Hook laughed hollowly. "Why do I hate Peter Pan?" he mused aloud. "Maybe its because he cut off my hand and fed it to a crocodile. And then he threw the rest of me to the beast again and forced me to live in the creature's belly until it coughed me back up!" The captain slammed his hook into the doorframe of the cabin. His eyes were blazing angrily. "That, my dear, is why I hate Pan. See you at dinner." And he shut and locked the door.

Emily sighed and sat on a large coil of rope.

"Well, what do I do now?" she asked herself. "Jesus, Emily, are you really that big of a dunce to agree with Hook?" She sighed again. "Apparently yes."

From the darkness around her, she heard a voice.

"Barely here ten minutes and you're already captured by Captain Hook."

Emily nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Who are you? Where are you?"

In a small patch of light coming from underneath the door, Emily saw a pair of bright green eyes.

"Peter!"

"Shh!" Peter flew over to her in a flash and covered her mouth with his hand. "We can't have Hook find us yet. That'll mess up the whole plan!" he hissed.

She raised her eyebrows. "You have a plan?"

"Not yet," Peter replied. "Now hold still."

Emily heard Peter unsheathe his knife and felt him begin to cut her bonds. She held absolutely still so as he wouldn't cut her instead. With a snap her legs were free.

"Thank you. Now get my hands." Emily held out her hands and let Peter cut the ropes at her wrists, then helped her up. The sound of hand hitting skin hard resounded off the walls.

Peter held his cheek. "What did you do that for!"

"That was for leaving me behind," she said. Then she stepped forward and kissed Peter on the same cheek she had slapped. "And that's for coming back for me." Even in the faint light, Emily could see the boy's cheeks turn red.

"I-I-" He cleared his throat. "I brought these." Peter pulled two swords from his belt and handed one to Emily. "Tell me you know how to use it."

Emily took the sword and held it. Of course she knew how to fight...sort of. She'd had some instruction in school gym class, but not enough to fight pirates. Plus, this sword was much heavier than the fencing swords at school.

"Well," prompted Peter. "Can you fight or not?"

"Uh..." Emily nodded.

"All right." Peter held up his sword. "How about a test? Get ready."

"But won't Hook hearYikes!" Emily somehow managed to fend off Peter's blow, but it left her arm pounding. She had only a split second to parry the next strike, followed by a third and a fourth. It wasn't long before Peter had Emily against the wall of the cabin. He grinned just inches away from her lips. For a moment, she thought that he would kiss her, but instead, he spoke.

"Promise me one thing."

"What?"

His grin grew; his eyes sparkled. "Leave Hook to me. When you see your chance, fly to the forest. Call for Tinker Bell. She'll take you to the tree."

"All right. I have one question, though."

Peter blinked. "What?"

Emily's eyes narrowed. "Where were you when Hook showed up?"

I, uh...Never mind about that. C'mon."

Emily began to object, but Peter shushed her again.

"Okay, here's my plan...sorta." He had one ear against the door, listening for any movement outside. "I'll distract Hook while you sneak off the ship."

"What happened to my finding Tink?"

"Forget that plan; this one's much better. Fly into the clouds. I'll come for you when I can." He looked back at Emily. "Got that?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "I escape while you have all the fun fighting pirates," she translated. Peter grinned and she stomped her foot stubbornly. "I want to fight, Peter! I don't want to run away!"

"You'll have to run. You can't fight," Peter replied quietly, his eyes to the floor.

"Why?" Emily demanded.

"Because."

"Because _why_, Peter!" Her voice was rising.

"Not so loud!" Peter hissed. "You want to blow our cover?"

"You mean your cover," she hissed right back. "Answer my question, Peter."

"Because I said so." Peter stood up straight, staring hard into Emily's blue eyes. "Do as I say and I won't have to take you back." He turned away.

"You sound like a grown up. Did you treat Grandma Wendy like this, too?" Emily spat, gripping the hilt of her sword.

Peter stayed silent, but Emily saw the muscles in his back and shoulders tense. Apparently she had hit a nerve.

Unlike Wendy, who had had to discover Peter's true nature on her own, Emily knew all about the boy's inner feelings thanks to her grandmother's stories. She knew how he had a fondness for love stories and how deep down inside he did feel, especially for Wendy. How he was caring and he felt responsible for Neverland and all its inhabitants (except pirates, naturally), and now, Emily. She shuddered as she realized something.

Peter didn't want her to fight not because of selfishness, but because he didn't want Emily to be hurt.

Emily was so lost in her own thoughts, she never heard Peter apologize for being so rude.

"What?" she asked, snapping out of her daze.

Peter sighed and repeated, "I'm sorry for being rude."

"Oh, its all right. Really, Peter." Emily put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "I like the plan. I'll meet you in the clouds."

Peter looked confused, but nodded anyway.

"So," began Emily, looking at the door. "How do we get out?"

Peter shrugged. "No idea."

A thought suddenly hit her mind. "How did you get in here without Hook seeing you, anyway?"

Peter grinned this time. "Pure skill."

Emily snorted and began to giggle. Peter merely continued to grin.

The duo spent the rest of the day in the cabin, Peter hiding away behind coils of rope of stacks of cannonballs every time Mr. Smee, Hook's first mate, came by to check on Emily. And every time Smee would leave, Emily and Peter would share a quiet laugh at their secrecy.

It wasn't the greatest adventure so far, but it was something to talk about.

So they waited until Captain Hook came to fetch Emily for supper to put their plan into action.

Here's what they worked out: When Hook opened the door, Peter was well hidden in a net pile. He had retied Emily's bonds, so as not to create suspicion. Hook took Emily out of the cabin and led her to the Captain's quarters for dinner. The captain had foolishly left the door open, as Peter had expected.

The plan, you see, would come into action when Emily would distract the pirates with another story. Peter would sneak out of the cabin and take his turn distracting Hook and his crew while Emily got away.

So when Peter heard Mr. Smee shout "Emily is gonna tell us a story, lads!" he sprung into action. Sword in hand, he crept from the cabin and out onto the deck, careful not to catch anyone's attention.

Emily saw Peter sneaking up on Hook from the corner of her eye and began to speed up the excitement in her story to keep the pirates occupied.

"...And Cinderella took her sword and shouted at Pan"

Peter stopped in his tracks when he heard his name escape Emily's lips. A story about him?

"'Who be you to call me girlie?'" continued Emily. "And Cinderella lunged at Peter Pan and gutted him from naval to nose."

The pirates cheered wildly. Peter's brows drew together in either anger or confusion, he couldn't decide. But he saw Emily beckon him forward discreetly with a hand behind her back. Then they both continued.

"Then the great Captain Hook sailed his ship to the docks on which Cinderella had slaughtered the evil Peter Pan and brought her aboard the _Jolly Roger_. 'Congratulations, Princess Cinderella,' said Hook. 'Since 'twas ye who rid us of the vile Peter Pan, we aboard the _Jolly Roger_ invite you to join our crew.'"

One of the pirates shouted, "Join the crew, Cinderella!" Emily laughed rather fakely as she saw Peter straighten behind Hook and raise his sword. Of course, he wasn't going to kill him; what fun would there be in that? Then there'd be no more adventures. The most he would do was remove another appendage.

Emily was going over the plan in her head and therefore not finishing the story. Hook placed his hook on her shoulder, making her jump.

"And did Cinderella join my marvelous company?" he asked.

"Y-Yes. Cinderella joined the crew. And they lived happily ever after."

The crew began to clap and Peter took his cue.

Leaping into the air in front of Captain Hook, he laughed. He hovered there before Hook and Emily, grinning.

"I liked the story, Emily," he said. "But I'm not sure the ending was to my tastes." Peter tossed the second sword to Emily, who caught it and ran for the side of the ship. One pirate caught her ankle and she screamed.

The pirate leered at her. "Where are you going, girlie?"

Emily hit the pirate over the head with the pommel of her sword. "I'm not a girlie!" The pirate fell to the deck, eyes closed. Guessing he was knocked out, Emily thought a happy thought and was airborne. Then she flew away to the clouds.

Peter, on the hand, stayed on the ship and fought Captain Hook.

"Peter Pan, prepare to meet thy doom," threatened Hook, readying his sword.

"Ready to lose the other one?" Peter grinned wickedly.

"And what about Wendy? Are you to lose her again?" Hook looked at his crew. "Fetch Long Tom."

Peter gasped as the crew bustled about, bringing the long-range cannon onto the deck.

"That's not fair, Hook!"

"Aim it at Wendy, boys!"

Peter lunged forward. "No! Emily!" Steel hit steel in a harsh clang, and the battle began.

Emily floated about the puffy white clouds (which were considerably solid), watching the ship from the sky. She could hear the clanging of swords from the deck, followed by Peter shouting, although she wasn't sure what he had said. After the shout, though, was a cannon fire.

In slow motion, Emily saw the large, black ball hurl through the sky toward her, cutting clouds apart. Time stretched to a stop just moments before the cannonball hit her square in the stomach. She didn't breathe at all, eyes never blinking, heart never beating. The cannonball was stopped midair.

But then Time revved up again, and Emily dove out of the way before the cannonball (now at full speed again) crashed into her. But the air wake left by the speeding hunk of iron was strong enough to rip her up and away from the cloud she was clinging, and she was falling to the ground faster than her mind could fill with a happy thought.

Emily remembered falling through the leaves and trees. She remembered being slapped in the face with vines and branches, her skin being cut and scratched with thorns and sticks. The last thing she remembered was hitting the ground very hard and everything going black.

Author's note: Okie-dokie! Big cliffie! But I'll get the next chapter up ASAP! kay? Don't hurt me! Pleez! Don't make me pull out the faery...


	4. chapter four: Indians and Mermaids

disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan. I never will. But I'll never give up my dream!

Author's note: Okay, back to the story...

chapter four:

Peter had managed to get away from Hook with just a scratch (which was bleeding profusely at the present moment) and a hole in the mast of the _Jolly Roger_. With a laugh at the memory of another fallen mast, he flipped onto his back and soared on an air current.

His thoughts drifted to Emily and wherever she was in the clouds.

It was frightening how much Emily resembled Wendy. Or at least the Wendy Peter remembered, not the Wendy who had grown up. He sometimes could hardly look Emily in the eyes because he was afraid to lose face like he would in front of Wendy. It was like seeing Wendy young again, like going back to the time when Wendy was in Neverland.

Peter sighed, floating along the air current like he was swimming. He missed Wendy terribly, to the point where he would wake at night from dreams of her. But somehow after seeing her an old woman, Peter found himself thinking of Wendy less and Emily more. Ever since he had gone back to London to watch who he'd thought was Wendy, the Wendy in his dreams slowly shifted to Emily's face, though he hadn't thought much of it at the time.

He kicked his feet, flipping back over onto his stomach. It was getting more and more confusing all the time. But on the bright side...

"Emily!" Peter flew forward, landing on a puffy white cloud. His green eyes scanned the sky, looking for any sign of the light blue nightgown that his companion was wearing. Nothing caught his eye.

Peter cupped his hands around his mouth. "Emily!" he shouted. "Where are you!" No answer. "Emily!"

Panic began to creep in as Peter looked frantically in the clouds. Wendy would kill him if he lost Emily. Or even worse, if she were killed herself.

"Emily!" He flew faster than he thought he could around the sky, searching for any sign of Emily. He found none.

"Emily! Where are you!" Peter fell to a cloud below him, bouncing slightly as he landed. He rubbed his eyes. "Wendy's gonna run me through."

Just then, a small ball of sparkling light hit Peter in the arm. The boy looked up to see Tinker Bell dancing frantically on his knee. Peter sat up, sending the faery flying.

"Tink! Have you seen Emily?"

Tinker Bell flew back up and hovered before Peter. She nodded.

"Where!" Peter hopped up, relief washing out the panic. "Where is she?"

Tink chattered, pointing to the forest.

"The Indian village?" Peter raised his eyebrows. "How did she get there?"

Tink shrugged and flew off. Peter grinned and followed.

Emily groaned and opened her sleep-filled eyes. She quickly shut them again, thinking he was dreaming, and then opened them again.

She was in a tepee from the looks of things. Emily faintly remembered Grandmother Wendy talking about the Indian village on one side of the island. Maybe this was that place. But how did she get there?

Rubbing her eyes, Emily looked around. There were pots and jars of things all around. A fire pit was in the middle of the tepee, a fire burning happily, the smoke coiling out the smoke flap at the top. Masks and shawls hung from the walls and furs covered the floor.

"Hello?" Emily called out. The tepee smelled like burning herbs, and it was making her drowsy again. But she had to stay awake.

An old woman in deerskin walked into the tepee. Her long gray hair was plaited into two braids that fell over her shoulders and past her waist. She walked to the bearskin rug that Emily was laying on and knelt beside her.

Emily's first thought was to jump and run, but she was too afraid to do either.

The woman spoke in some kind of native tongue and held out a deerskin outfit much like her own. Emily was confused at first; wasn't she wearing her nightgown? But then she saw it, lying at her feet.

Her blue nightgown was ripped into shreds missing large chunks of fabric. Emily sighed: it was her best nightshirt, and now it was ruined.

"I suppose you want me to put this on instead," she said, pointing to the deerskin dress. The old woman said something and held out the outfit. Emily sat up (with some difficulty due to her aching back) and pulled the blanket she was covered in around her.

"Well, all right then." Emily took the dress and pulled it on over her head. The deerskin was soft against her skin. It was a lot more comfortable than her nightgown, that was for sure. She turned back to the woman. "Thank you."

The woman said something and smiled. She pointed to the door and the forest beyond, continuing to speak. Emily's eyebrows drew together.

"I'm sorry. I...I don't understand..."

But the elderly woman kept speaking. She took Emily's soft hands in her wrinkled ones and bid her to sit down on the bear rug. Emily did and stared at the Indian woman as she spoke. And somehow, she understood.

Grandmother Lily (as she was called) had been working in her medicine hut when a brave and a young boy had come into the village carrying a young girl with honey-brown hair and blue animal fur for clothes. The girl was unconscious and covered in cuts, so Grandmother took her into the tepee and cared for her.

"So I was found and brought here?" Emily stated more than asked.

Grandmother nodded. She could understand Emily as well. She went on to ask what her name was.

"Emily," Emily replied.

"Falling Sun," Grandmother confirmed in her native tongue. "This is your name. Why are you here?"

Emily smiled. "I'm here with Peter Pan." She was about to continue when a light bulb flipped on above her head. She gasped. "Peter!" Emily hopped up, letting go of Grandmother's hands. "Oh no! I've forgotten about Peter! And Hook! He could be dead!"

Grandmother took one of Emily's hands. "Calm, Falling Sun. You are here with Flying Wolf?"

Translated into Emily's mind, Flying Wolf was Peter. "Yes, yes I am. Do you know where he is?"

This time, Grandmother Lily shook her head. "No, I do not know."

Emily bit her bottom lip as she thought, _Where are you Peter?_

"Falling Sun? What are you thinking?"

"I'm wondering where Peter is," Emily replied glumly. "He's supposed to be here..."

Grandmother gave Emily a hopeful look, squeezing the young girl's hand. "He is a good warrior; he will come."

Emily sighed. "Thank you, but I'm afraid I have to find him." She leaned down and kissed Grandmother Lily's wrinkled forehead. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Grandmother replied "You're welcome, child," before Emily let go of her old, frail hands and walked out of the tepee.

The setting sun framed the horizon through the trees, and Emily had to hold up a hand to shield her eyes. She looked around.

All of the Natives were staring back at her, examining this strange girl with honey-brown hair who fell from the sky. Children who had been playing had stopped to look at what everyone else was looking at; babies even fell silent.

But none of this lasted long, as a bright, tiny ball of light darted through the air and flew right up to Emily, crashing into her forehead to get her attention.

"Ow!" Emily put a hand to her stinging head. "Tinker Bell! What are youwait; Tinker Bell! Where's Peter?"

The faery began to chatter, pointing to the sky. Sure enough, there was the boy, flying as fast as he could to the Indian village. Peter landed just feet away from her and closed the gap between them in nanoseconds, holding Emily close to him. She felt his breath against her ear as he sighed in relief. Her cheeks grew hot.

"You're all right," Peter concluded quietly. He released her and held her at arms length, green eyes darting over her as he checked for injuries, making Emily feel very embarrassed. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Hurt?" Emily shoved Peter's hands away. "I was nearly killed by a cannon! I fell from the air like a wingless bird! I was lucky someone found me!"

Peter totally ignored her snapping, or at least acted like it. "I found you. Now we can go on another adventure!" He took Emily's hand and made to fly, but Emily yanked away.

"No more adventures, Peter. I was nearly killed!" She sighed in exasperation. "I want to go home."

But Peter continued on. "We can go see the mermaids!" Hey, it had worked on Wendy.

Emily shook her head. "Peter, I want to go home. I'm sorry, but...it's just too dangerous here." She placed a hand on Peter's arm, and then pulled away, finding it surprisingly cold. But she steeled herself and touched him again. "I need to go home to my parents andand Grandma Wendy."

Peter didn't meet her eyes, but instead looked at his feet. Emily sighed again. "Peter"

And then Peter turned and walked away, cutting through the crowd of Indians who made a path for him silently, toward the forest. Before he even made it to the tree line, he broke into a quick run, so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even fly. Soon, he was out of sight.

Emily stood silently and watched Peter disappear into the woods. Her mind, much to her own shock, wasn't even thinking, much less racing.

She knew she had to grow up. Every child grew up. All except Peter. But he missed the point! Emily wanted to grow up; she wanted to get married and have her own children and tell them about Peter Pan. But Peter himself just couldn't understand! He was just a child; just a boy!

Emily fumed and left the Indian village, apologizing hotly to the natives as she passed them on her way to the opposite part of the forest.

And the Indians, figuring that the two weren't coming back, shook their heads and went back to their activities.

Peter ran through the forest, quick as a deer, his heartbeat pounding in his ears in time with his feet as they hit the ground. Sweat beaded on his brow and slipped down his face, the physical exertion starting to get to him. His breathing was heavy and loud; he was panting and his chest felt as if it would explode, he was pushing himself so hard. He didn't know which way he was headed, and frankly, he didn't care.

As long as he was as far away from Emily as he could be.

He ran until he could run no more. Peter finally collapsed at the base of a huge tree, panting from exhaustion. He shut his eyes and leaned back against the trunk, trying to calm down. _I won't cry,_ he told himself. _I will not cry._ But there were the tears, pushing at the corner of his eyes, demanding an exit, an escape.

Peter wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He was _not_ going to cry, especially over some _girl_ who wanted to _grow up_. He stared angrily at his clenched fists, and then stood up.

"Why does she want to grow up anyway?" he asked himself aloud. "What's so great about it?"

Peter picked up a rock and chucked it at a tree, releasing a bit of his anger and chipping a chunk of bark off the jujube sapling.

"I mean, why does every kid want to grow up? Especially _girls_." He said the word like it made him sick.

"And why do girls always have to ruin the fun? Why do they have to stop playing make-believe and turn it into real?"

He picked up another stone. He looked at it before throwing it into the canopy of another tree, sending leaves showering to the ground.

"How can they be so...so...unfun! They make me so angry!"

Peter drew his sword and stared at its blade, or more, his reflection. A flood of anger washed over him.

He was crying and he hadn't even known.

But instead of the throwing the sword as well, Peter merely stared into the distance of endless forest, out to the setting sun. He dropped his sword into the dirt next to him leaned against the trunk, sliding into a sitting position, blinking away more tears. But they kept coming, so he put his head on his knees and cried.

Meanwhile, Emily was trudging through the forest, completely unaware of the fact that she was going in circles.

But what she did know was that her mind wouldn't stop replaying the memory of Peter running off.

Her heart was struck with a pang of guilt as she remembered that it was her fault that Peter had left.

She had gone with Peter to Neverland, and she could remember the look of pure joy on his face when she accepted. And then Emily went and told him barely a day after arriving that she wanted to go home. Immediately she knew what Peter was feeling.

Emily mentally berated herself. How could she have been so rude?

Emily sighed and stopped walking, leaning against a tree.

"I never meant to upset him," she reassured herself. "But I want to go home. I need to go home. My parents must be worried sick...and Gran. She must know where I am..."

_But Peter_, she thought. _He'll be heartbroken if I go_.

"He would never forgive me. I don't know if he forgave Gran, but he would never forgive me." Emily looked down at her bare feet and a tear slipped down her cheek.

"I'm sorry Peter. Please forgive me."

Captain James Hook was the intellectual type.

Not one to rely fully on brute strength, Hook always had a plan for his encounters with Peter Pan.

Except for now.

How Pan had managed to sneak into the spare cabin was beyond him. But how he had managed to escape was quite obvious.

Possibly due to the gaping hole in the mizzenmast.

But either way, Hook was positively livid.

"Another plan foiled, Smee," he said while he cleaned his hook. "Another plan foiled by that wretched Pan."

"You'll get 'im next time, Cap'n," said Smee from the corner.

"Yes, Smee. Next time, Pan will die."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"And do you know how he will die, Smee?"

"Uh...no, Cap'n."

Hook took a buffing rag and began to polish his hook. "He will die at the hands of his dearwhat's her name, again?"

"Eh, Emily, I think, Cap'n."

"Oh, yes, of course. His dear Emily."

"And how will she do that, Cap'n? She seemed sorta attached to 'im"

"Quite simple, Mr. Smee." Hook picked up his hook and began screwing it in. "His Emily shall die, taking Pan along with her."

"And how will we do that, Cap'n?"

"With the help of an old friend." Captain Hook gestured to another dark corner where n old woman in many shawls and beads sat, singing a wordless melody. One of the necklaces around her neck was glowing, flickering with an eerie green light.

"Smee, meet Madam Merlot, voodoo witch and supernatural psychic extraordinaire," said Hook. "She is going to help us get rid of Pan and his Emily."

"P-Pleasure, ma'am," Stuttered Smee, although he suddenly felt clammy. "Eh, Cap'n? I think I'll go back out on deck."

"Very well, Smee," said Hook. "Inform the crew that we'll be feasting within a fortnight at Pan's secret hideout over his dead body."

"Aye, cap'n."

The darkness had fallen.

Emily could hardly see what was in front of her as she walked, carefully stepping on the soft sod beneath her feet. The thick canopy of the trees above her blocked out all of the star and moonlight, so her only light was the glow of a few fireflies. She still had no clue as to where she was going, only that the sound of crashing water was becoming louder. She sighed with relief when the forest began to thin out to expose a large pool that a thundering waterfall poured into. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting an eerie glow on the black moss-covered rocks.

"Well at least from here I can find out where I am," Emily said to herself, walking over to a large black boulder and climbing up its side to the top. From this vantage point she could see the whole beachside of the island. She spotted Captain Hook's ship, pleased to see a fallen mast, but nothing else. Emily clicked her tongue in frustration.

"What a bloody great help that was."

So she climbed back down the rock and walked over to the shore of the pool. Emily crouched down and scooped some of the water into her cupped hands. It was icy cold, but it felt rather nice as it splashed down her parched throat.

_That's much better_, she thought. Emily looked around at the scenery. Everything was cast in an eerie glow, and it began to look to her that it wasn't just the reflection of the moon and stars on the water that the glow was coming from, but from the water itself.

"What the?"

And then it happened. Six or seven heads popped up from the water a little ways from the shore. They stayed out in the water as Emily gasped and fell over in surprise.

"Yikes!"

The heads in the water looked at Emily for a moment, some of them cocking their heads. They were women, for only women could have such long black hair and round faces. Then as quickly as they appeared, they were gone.

Emily was still on her bottom on the shore, too much in shock to move. She was panting; her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird's.

_Whatwhat were those?_ she thought frantically. _Did I scare them? Do they live here? What are they?_

And as if to answer her question, the 'women' slid out of the water and onto the shore. Emily screamed into her hand, eyes wider than dinner plates. She scrambled away from the water's edge, panic flooding her veins. She knew how dangerous they could be, how they would drown anyone if they got too close...

..._Mermaids._

Their webbed, clawed hands rested on the sharp black rocks while their black eyes stared at Emily curiously. The moonlight reflected off of their pale, milky green skin and their black-green scales, making Emily shiver. Their long black hair fell to their waists and over their shoulders, covering their bare chests.

They began making clicking noises, looking at Emily. One of them, the only one with red hair, slid forward on the rocks, still making clicking noises.

Emily's breath was coming in short gasps, her blood pounding in her ears. What did they want her to do?

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "But I don't know what you're saying."

The mermaid with the red hair cocked her head, continuing to click. Emily shook her head.

"Idon'tunderstand," she repeated slowly. "Peter, where are you?"

The mermaid seemed to understand the name "Peter" and nodded.

"What? You know who Peter is?"

The mermaid nodded, clicking wildly. Then she pointed to Emily, still clicking.

"I'm looking for Peter Pan," said Emily. "Do you know where he is? I need to get home."

The mermaid shuffled back to her sisters, quite a humorous sight considering the situation. They clicked back and forth to each other, then the red head came back, her gold eyes shinning. She clicked something and pointed to the sand. Emily followed her webbed finger.

Then the mermaid began to draw in the sand, first a crude representation of a person, then a picture of a lumpafter this was drawn, the mermaid pointed to the boulderand finally, a person on a lump.

"What do you want me to do?" Emily asked. The mermaid pointed to Emily, then the boulder. Emily caught on quickly.

"You want me to climb onto the boulder?"

The mermaid nodded, then clicked to her companions. They all began to shuffle back toward the water, clicking wildly until they slid into the pool.

"Wait!" Emily cried out, finally standing. "Don't leave yet!" But they were gone, and Emily was alone again.

"Blast it," she muttered. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and started to pick her way across the shore and over to the boulder she had climbed earlier. Emily took a deep breath, then began the climb.

When she made it to the top, she sat down, panting from the climb.

"What do I do now?" she asked aloud.

This time, no answer came to her.

Peter had fallen asleep at the base of the tree. He awoke to a dark forest, the canopies of the trees blocking out majority of the moonlight. He wiped his eyes of dried tears, then picked up his sword and sheathed it.

He knew what he had to do: find Emily and take her back to London. He knew that she was still in Neverland; she never would have found a way to fly, being so mad. She didn't want to be here, and Peter couldn't stop her. But he could try to keep her. 'Try' being the operative word.

Peter sighed. He didn't want her to leave Neverland. He hadn't meant to get her hurt. In fact, he would be extremely upset if she left.

"I have to find her," Peter finished aloud, slamming a closed fist into an open palm. "But how?" He ran a hand through his unruly hair. "The mermaids might know. I'll go to the lagoon." And he sprinted off through the forest.

Emily blinked for the millionth time since getting on top of the boulder. She'd given up trying to get the mermaids to come back long ago. She'd also run out of pebbles to throw into the water.

Why didn't she fly? you might ask. Well, at the moment, Emily was too busy trying to think of what to do than to think happy thoughts. Besides, where would she have gone? She had no idea where she was, and to get somewhere else, you must first know your starting point. Thus she was positively stuck, both physically and mentally.

And yet, she was so jumbled and confused emotionally had it not been a feeling but an emotion, she would have ten thousand faces.

Emily sighed. She felt bad for running off on Peter. Worse, perhaps, that she had thought of him as just a boy. He had feelings; he knew what it meant to feel, to love. He hadwastrying to show her a good time and she was trying to get home.

"I've been a horrible person," she said aloud. "How could I have been so rude?"

She layed down in the top of the boulder, staring up at the twinkling stars and the bright moon. It seemed as though there were twice as many of them as there were in London. But these stars...it looked as though you could reach up and pluck them from the sky, one by one, until you had a great shinning pile of stars in front of you that you could string like beads on a necklace.

"A necklace of stars," Emily mused, sighing. "How cool would that be..." Her eyes fluttered shut and she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of starry jewels.

Meanwhile, back on the _Jolly Roger_, the voodoo witch, Madam Merlot, was watching a sapphire pendant that glowed strangely. She chanted inaudibly, muttering a spell of possession, weaving an enchantment, over the sleeping girl atop a boulder.

Peter landed just outside the rocky clearing, sprinting out onto the rocks and practically fell at the water's edge to his knees. He clicked desperately, calling out to the mermaids frantically, pleading for their help. Their heads popped up one by one as they swam to the shore and clicked, cocking their heads questioningly.

Peter clicked rapidly, asking if the mermaids had seen a girl. He described what Emily looked like, and the mermaids nodded quickly. They pointed to the large boulder.

'She's up there,' they clicked, and then looked back at Peter with eager eyes. 'We didn't hurt her,' said the redheaded one. 'We put her on the rock for you. Since we didn't hurt her then, can we have her now? She has such pretty hair...'

Peter hissed in response, sending the other mermaids screeching and diving back into the water. The red-haired mermaid stayed, glaring at Peter. The boy hissed again and the last of the creatures was gone.

Peter hopped up and flew to the top of the boulder where Emily slept peacefully, curled up in a tight ball, the hem of the deerskin dress tucked over her bare toes. He released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and touched down on the rock, walking across its flat top over to the sleeping Darling.

He sighed, kneeling next to her. "Thank God. I found you."

Author's Note: okay, so no more super cliffy, but thus enters the plot! Okay, now review.


	5. chapter five: Dreams and Kisses

disclaimer: I'm so sick of saying this...I don't own Pan. Must you people be so evil!

Author's Note: All righty, next chapter. I hate dream sequences...the stuff in the italics are dreams. Unless it says otherwise. So just read. this is a **_good_** chapter. And i used bold, underline, and italics there, so it has to be good.

chapter five:

_Emily gazed at the starry ring on her finger, captivated by its brilliance and splendor. The sapphire (the same color as her eyes) shone with an ethereal beauty, an almost eerie light. She couldn't stop staring at the gem; it seemed as if the deep blue would go on forever..._

Madam Merlot smirked as she muttered her curse over the sapphire in her hand.

"And now to turn this dream into a nightmare," she croaked in her old voice, her French accent sounding odd as she changed her chant and continued.

_...The sapphire glowed stronger, nearly blinding Emily. But the gem called out to her; it called her name..._

_"Emily..."_

_"What is it?"_

_The gem flashed. "Peter Pan..."_

_"What about him?" Emily felt like she was falling..._

_"Kill him."_

_"What?"_

_"Kill Peter Pan."_

_"But I"_

_The sapphire grew hot and Emily dropped it. "KILL HIM!" The gem shattered and a shard flew into her hand, burying itself in her skin. She screamed._

Peter Nearly fell off the rock when Emily thrashed out and screamed in her sleep. She clutched her wrist as her face twisted in pain.

"Emily!" Peter fell to his knees next to her, pulling her hand away from her wrist to see what was the matter. He gasped at the sight.

A small sliver of blue gem was wriggling its way inside Emily's wrist via a thin slit in her skin. Whatever it was, Peter had to stop it. Something that glowed and moved of its own accord (other than faerys and sea creatures, of course) couldn't be good. But how to keep Emily down?

"Sorry 'bout this," Peter said aloud, and he straddled her waist, his knees holding down her thrashing arms. Then he reached down to her wrist and managed to pluck the sliver of sapphire before it snuck into Emily's slender arm. But the moment he held it, it burned his palm, making him yelp out and drop it, where it shattered when it hit the ground.

Emily began to stir, moaning in pain. Peter released her, deciding it would be better if she woke up while he was next to her, not on her. Her eyes opened, the blue of her irises foggy and unfocused.

"Peter? What happened?" She tried to sit up, holding her wrist. She noticed the cut on her wrist, and inhaled sharply. Her eyes focused quickly and a hand went to her mouth.

"I should be asking you that question," Peter said, his voice hushed, his green eyes wide with something Emily had never seen before in his eyes: fear.

"I had a nightmare, I think," Emily replied shakily. Then, faster than could be comprehended, she threw herself at Peter's chest and clung to him, crying, sobbing uncontrollably. Peter was stunned for a moment, shocked at the sudden intimacy of her embrace. Of course, this didn't last long.

Peter wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him. Emily held onto him for dear life, huge sobs wracking her body, tears spilling down her face. He didn't speak, just held her, running one hand up and down her back comfortingly, threading the other through her hair, whispering "Shh" in her ear. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her crying lessening a bit to small hiccups.

Peter's neck was wet from her tears, but he payed no mind. This was what he had dreamed about: holding Wendybut now, even more, Emilyunder the stars like this, just holding her close to him him. And it didn't matter that something had just happened that was beyond frightening. All that mattered was that Peter could finally know what it was like to really be in love.

As Peter stroked her back gently, Emily released a heavy breath, not even moving away from Peter, sending a tingle down his spine. "I was so scared, Peter," she said against his skin in a deathly whisper. "I was so scared." She put her arms around him, returning the embrace. "It was so scary."

"Its okay, Emily," Peter whispered back. "It'll be okay."

Emily nodded slightly, and then said quietly, "Thank you."

Peter smiled. "For what?"

Emily laughed, almost, and pulled away from his arms, something Peter didn't like too well. So he kept his hands on her waist, his face showing his disgruntlement. Emily only chuckled and put her hands on his. "Thank you for..." She paused, thinking of a way to put it.

Instead, she pulled Peter forward by his arms and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Thank you for everything, Peter," she said with a faint smile.

Peter was stunned once more, but this time it took only a fraction of a second for him to make up his mind.

He kissed her back, but it was nothing like the first two times. This was urgent and needy; the kiss of a boy who, deep down, wanted to know what it was like to be loved, to be a man. He kept his hands on Emily's waist, pulling her toward him, holding her tight.

Emily was extremely surprised, and thus, had gasped slightly, giving Peter his opportunity to deepen the kiss with such intensity that made her utter a small noise from deep in her throat. This was definitely nothing like what Gran had told her.

So while Emily was thinking about that, she wasn't really doing anything. Peter pulled away reluctantly.

"Am I doing something wrong?" he asked truthfully. He looked as though he'd be sad forever in she said yes.

"Huh? Oh, no!" Emily shook her head. "I was just thinking, that's all."

"Thinking? About what?"

Emily shook her head again, draping her arms around Peter's neck. "It's nothing. Absolutely nothing." She smiled and pressed her forehead against his. "Where were we?"

Peter grinned like a devil and kissed her full on the lips, winding his fingers through her hair. This time Emily took her chances and let him close the gap between them and hold her, really hold her, touch her, know her better than he would ever know Wendy.

It was in this one moment of her life that Emily felt that she was better than anyone else in the world, including Grandma Wendy.

Wendy had never physically been this close to Peter, and Emily had. Peter had never kissed Wendy like this; Emily was.

Sure, it was selfish, and she knew that selfishness was wrong, but Emily had been on the bottom so many times, had been friendless her whole life, had been shunned since before she could remember, that this feeling just seemed right.

This feeling became action, and Emily opened her mouth, letting Peter slide his tongue inside and kiss her more passionately like he'd been before.

Emily moaned and pulled away a moment. "Peter," she said, coming back to her senses. "We...we should..." she took a deep breath, "We should stop."

Peter's cheeks were flushed, making his green eyes stand out. His eyes screamed "NO!", but he nodded anyway, breathless.

"You're right."

Emily nodded and sat back, but her hands didn't leave his. "Let's go home."

Peter's face fell. "You mean, back to London?"

Emily laughed out loud. "No! I mean to the hideout."

"You mean?"

"I'm staying, Peter. I'm staying with you. For now, anyway," she added under her breath, hoping Peter didn't hear. If he did, he didn't act like it, because he grinned and kissed her cheek. Then, taking her hand, he took off into the air, Emily smiling behind him.

Author's Note: Okiddie-dokie! The Fluffy-ness has begun! Wootness! Review and tell me what you thought.


	6. chapter six: Questions

disclaimer: I only own the DVD, the soundtrack, and a big poster of him in my room. This is as close as I'll ever get to owning Peter Pan. sigh

Author's Note: So, now for the rest of the fluffiness. Oh, and don't get mad at me until you finish the whole chapter. ...Just some advice...

chapter six:

"You can sleep here."

Peter gestured to a pile of furs in a space in the roots of the gigantic tree that Peter's secret hideout was in. It looked cozy enough. That was, until Peter spoke again.

"That was Wendy's bed. It should fit you."

Emily frowned. Feeling her jealousy rise up, she spat out, "I don't want to sleep there."

"What?" Peter raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Why not?"

Emily sighed. She would have to ask her question now. "Peter, this is really important, so listen carefully." Peter sat in his high-backed chair, one of his legs hanging over the arm.

"Okay, I'm listening," he said.

"Peter, back at the rock..."

"Yes?"

She swallowed, wringing her hands together. "Back on the rock, did you kiss me because I remind you of Wendy? Or because you like me for me?"

Peter's brows drew together in disbelief. "What?"

"Answer the question, Peter!"

Peter gave her an incredulous look, rolling his eyes and getting out of his chair to pace around.

"You're just like Wendy!" he said angrily. Of course, Emily thought that this was his answer and was heartbroken. But Peter continued.

"She always had to question what I was to her, what I felt for her!" He clenched his fists. "She never understood that I loved her just because I did!"

"It was unconditional," Emily muttered. Peter ranted on.

"But she kept questioning how I felt, where I was in her life!" Peter's voice was rising. "So she decides to go back home to London, where she didn't have to poke and prod and take apart what I was; who I was!" He paced around the room, his face red in frustration and anger. Emily just stood there, listening to this surprise confession. Suddenly, she didn't see him like she did when Wendy told her stories. Suddenly, she saw him as a boy who wanted so desperately to grow up, to be a man, to be loved by someone who could accept him.

"So now, when I go back to get Wendy, it turns out she's grown up." It was then that Peter turned to Emily, his eyes softening a bit. "And then I see you. I thought that I could take you with me instead, you know? Make you want to stay with me. And now, after what we just did, you do this!"

"Peter..." Tears were running down her face, but Emily paid no mind to them. It was just a simple question, and all she wanted was an honest answer. She hadn't expected this...

He didn't say anything; he kept pacing, muttering to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was hardly breathing, he was so frustrated.

Emily was so caught up in worrying, though, that it took a moment to realize that Peter was speaking.

"...I may not know what love is. I probably never will." He turned back to her, calmer, more relaxed. "But what I do know is this: Emily, when I'm around you, I just get this feeling that makes me so happy that I almost can't stand it. And then there are times when I get so mad at you, but I still want to be with you. I still have that feeling." Peter lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "I don't know if that's what love is. I may have felt that way about your grandmother once, Emily, but not anymore. I only feel that way about you now. And if that's love, Emily," he leaned down and kissed her lips, "then I'm in love with you. Truly, deeply in love with you."

Emily smiled and kissed him back. "I love you too."

"I kissed you back on the rock because I love you, Emily. Not Wendy, you."

"That's nice to hear, Peter." She kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. The kiss went from innocent to passionate, a full-blown French kiss. But the good things never last forever.

This was when Tinker Bell flew into the hideout and saw Peter leading Emily to a nearby bed, left over from the Lost Boys, their lips still locked. The little faery turned red in anger and zoomed over to the couple just as Peter was about to lay Emily down onto the bed. She grabbed him by the back of his leaf outfit, jerking him away from Emily, letting her fall to the bed with a crack as her head hit the edge of the wood.

"Tink!" shouted Peter, pulling the faery out of his hair and throwing her across the room. "What'd you do that for!"

Tinker Bell stuck out her tongue, chattering nonstop.

"Oh, God," Emily said, sitting up and holding the back of her head. "Am I bleeding?" She groaned, pulling her fingers to eye level from the back of her head. "Blast it, I'm bleeding."

"You are?" Peter helped her up and looked at her scalp. "Geez, you are. Tink, I can't believe you!"

Tink blew a raspberry and whimpered, then flew off.

"She's gotten a little touchy, don't you think?" Emily joked, but winced when Peter checked how wide the gash was.

"You fell pretty good," he said, wiping the blood out of her hair. "It's not bleeding anymore, but it'll leave a good knot. You okay?"

"It stings, that's all." Emily winced again. "Ouch! That hurts! Stop it!" She thrashed away from Peter and put her hands on her hips. "I'll be fine." She smoothed out her deerskin dress, and then yawned. "I'm tired."

"Well, where do you want to sleep?"

Emily sat on the bed she'd hit her head on. "Here's fine. It's a lot cozier."

Peter looked over the bed, his eyes glazing over a moment as he looked through his past. Emily merely watched him.

"John slept here," he said quietly.

"What?"

"John. He slept here."

"Oh! You mean Gran's brother, my great uncle." Emily cocked her head. "I never met him, you know. Or Michael. Or any of the Lost Boys, for that matter. Except one. I met Slightly. But it wasn't until Wendy told me who he was that I knew." She shrugged. "What made you think of him?"

Peter shook out of his reverie. "I dunno. I guess it was a long time ago. It's been just Tink and me for what seemed like forever. It gets kinda lonely, you know? I have to keep thinking back to those times for some reason so I don't feel totally alone."

Emily nodded, then layed down, staring at the root ceiling. A silence passed.

"What was she like?"

"Huh?"

"What was Gran like when she was my age?"

Peter kneeled down at the edge of the bed, frowning. "And why does the conversation always keep turning to her?"

"I'm just curious."

He thought a moment, eyebrows drawing together. "She was younger than you are know. And she wasn't easy to persuade. A lot like you." He smiled and poked her thigh. "How's your head?"

"Fine. Did she like it here?"

Peter sighed. "Yeah, until she and her brother forgot who their parents were."

"So that's why she came back." Another silence passed while Emily pondered what to say. She settled on, "You know, she wishes every day that she'd have stayed with you."

Peter laughed, but it was an empty one. "Yup, I used to think like that. But if she hadn't gone back, you'd have never been born. And then I'd never be this happy."

They shared a laugh, followed by a kiss. Then Peter pulled the blankets over Emily and went to bed.

Meanwhile, back on the _Jolly Roger_, Captain Hook was sitting at his table, watching Madam Merlot begin her next enchantment.

"Do not fail like you did last time," Hook said, "Or I will not let you try again."

Madam Merlot cast the captain a dirty look and said in her croaky French voice, "Patience, my dear Capitan. Patience. Paris wasn't built in a day."

"I want him dead, Merlot. Both of them."

Author's Note: Now, wasn't that just a scrumdiddlyumptous chapter? I thought so. Review!


	7. chapter seven: Arguements

disclaimer: sigh this is soooooooo annoying...

Author's note: next chappie! Is it just me or do these chapters alternate between good and bad? ((wink wink that was a clue wink wink)) Again, the italics are dream sequences unless otherwise stated...

chapter seven:

_Emily flew along, above the Neverland forest, soaring between ground and sky. She landed on the beach near a sunny lagoon and ran across the hot sand. Before her materialized Peter._

_"Hey," she called out, running faster. "Peter!"_

_But he didn't turn. Instead, Wendy, a young girl again, appeared next to him. And then she was in his arms, kissing him..._

_"No! Peter!" Anger flooded Emily's blood, sending her nerves tingling. It was all she felt: hate, jealousy, anger..._

_In an instant, she was next to Peter and Wendy with her grandmother at musket-point. Her finger squeezed the trigger, the hammer went down, the bullet flew...and without even looking at the crumpled body of Wendy, she turned on Peter, raised the gun, and squeezed the trigger..._

"NO!"

Emily sat straight up in bed, panting, sweating. Her eyes were wide in fright as they scanned her surroundings frantically. Her chest rose and fell rapidly; she checked her hands for any signs of truth to the dream. Nothing.

She clutched her chest and pulled away the blankets, climbing out of the bed. Emily crept across the dirt floor to the large platform of roots with furs thrown on it that made Peter's bed. He was lying sprawled out, mouth open like any normal boy his age, fast asleep. She sighed, her heartbeat slowing a bit.

"Peter," Emily whispered, kneeling at the edge of the bed. "Peter, wake up. Please." But he didn't wake up, just rolled over onto his side, making some noise of protest. Emily frowned. "Peter, wake up!" she hissed. "Wake up!" When he didn't stir, she stood and pouted.

"Peter, I can't sleep," she whispered. "Can I sleep with you? Sure Emily. Climb on in. Thank you." She climbed into the bed with him and snuggled against his side. Subconsciously, the boy's arm slid around her waist and pulled her closer to him, muttering an inaudible something. Emily smiled and put her hand on his, closing her eyes, praying the nightmares would end.

Peter woke up the next morning to the sound of the exotic birds outside the tree. Or that was the first thing, anyway. What really jolted him into consciousness was the fact that Emily was snuggled into his chest, fast asleep.

His first thought: _I know she wasn't here when I went to sleep._

"Emily," she whispered, shaking her shoulder gently. Sure, Peter didn't want her to leave, but this was sort of sudden. Sort of.

"Emily, wake up."

Emily's face screwed up in protest. She made a noise that was a mix between "no" and a groan. The muttering of, "I'm too warm and comfy" followed this.

_Well, I can't object to that,_ Peter thought first. But then he changed his mind. "Wake up, Emily."

Emily's eyes fluttered open and met Peter's shyly. "Morning," she said, grinning tiredly.

"Peter laughed. "Morning." He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You know, when I went to bed last night, you," he pointed to Emily, "were over there." He pointed to the bed across the room.

Emily nodded. "I had another nightmare." Her eyes glazed over. "Peter, I don't know what's going on."

"What was it about? I heard somewhere that that helps."

"It was you and Gran, but she was young again. And you were kissing and I got mad andand...I killed Wendy, then I turned the gun on you" And she burst into tears.

"Whoa, Emily." Peter wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. It was just a dream, just a nightmare." He kissed the top of her head. "It'll be okay."

"I dreamt I killed you, Peter!" Emily cried, shoving away from him and sitting up. "I turned a gun on you and shot you through the head! How does that make it okay!"

"I was just a dream, that's how," Peter said, sitting up as well. "It wasn't real."

"Then why do they keep coming, huh?" she shot back, nearly shouting. "How come I keep having nightmares about you dying at my hands? I never used to get them before I came here!"

That made Peter angry. He got off the bed and pointed accusingly at Emily. "Hey! You had your chance to leave, you know! If you hadn't gotten lost, you could have left Neverland and gone home!"

Emily sniffed and shouted right back "Believe me! If I hadn't gotten lost I'd be off of this blasted island and in London! But you know what? I didn't, because I pitied you. I stayed behind because I felt sorry for you. That's right." She climbed off the bed and stood in front of Peter, eyes locked angrily with his. "But now, I'm not pitying you anymore. I'm leaving!"

Peter didn't even raise his voice; he kept his mouth in a tight line. "Go ahead. Leave. Just like Wendy." He frowned, his brow creasing. "Go and grow up."

Emily snarled back at him, "I will."

Then, without a glance backward, Emily turned and walked to the front door and walked out into the forest. Peter didn't even watch her go; angry tears blinded his eyes. He picked up a wooden bowl and stared at it a moment, then turned faster than lightning and threw it with all his might at the doorframe. It shattered into a billion pieces.

"Fine!" he shouted furiously. "Leave; go back home! Go back home and grow up! Be just like everyone else!" Peter's rage was in the red zone, but it was mixed with the grief and heartache of watching the girl he loved walk away from him.

Again.

Author's Note: Okay, you'll probably flame me, but I was expecting that, so I'm wearing all my flame-retardant gear ((every pyro has a set; it consists of: cut-off jean shorts, a ratty T-shirt and tennis shoes. It has to be tennis shoes cause you have to be able to run really fast after you pour gasoline onto the fire. cackles muwah-ha, firefirefirefirefirefirefirefirefire...)) But review! I wanna know what u peeps think of this story! And for those of you who read my other stories, I'll update in Element as soon as I run into a plot hole on this one ((which will prolly be never until I'm done)) Review!


	8. chapter eight: Problems

disclaimer: Screw owning Peter Pan. I just want Jeremy Sumpter.

Author's Note: okie dokie, time to fix this little cliffie. sorry for the wait on the updates. I couldn't find my 3 1/2 disk to save it on and transfer it to my school comp, so it took a while. Forgive, please! And read this next chapter! it'll make things better, i promise!

chapter eight:

Emily stomped through the foliage, angrier than a bull.

_How could he---? _she thought furiously. _After all we've done! All I said was that I didn't have nightmares before I came here, and he goes ballistic!_

Then it hit her that she'd never get home thinking that way. But no happy thoughts hit her, except one.

_I'm home,_ she thought. _I'm home and the nightmares have stopped..._

...and she was still on terra firma.

"Blast it!" she cursed. Emily kicked a rock sticking out of the ground. She looked around hopelessly.

_I need a faery,_ she thought. _But how do I get one?_

She thought, rooting through her brain for any ideas on how to find one.

_Maybe I can find Tink. She could help. She'd love to get rid of me._

"Tinker Bell!" Emily called. "Oh, Tinker Bell! Where are you! I need your help!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"She is leaving him."

Captain Hook looked up from his cutlass. "What?"

Madam Merlot calmly repeated herself, twisting a necklace of pearls around her bony finger. "The girl is leaving him. She's going home."

Hook stood angrily. "What? Why?"

"They had an argument." She smirked evilly. "She believes that if she goes home the nightmares will stop."

Hook laughed. "How wrong she is. Am I correct?"

Merlot nodded. "I have power over her anywhere she goes. She is mine to control." She looked at the shattered sapphire amulet on the cabin floor. "That is, if she would stop breaking out of sleep."

"But you will keep control, won't you, Madam?" the captain threatened, brandishing his hook. The voodoo witch didn't even blink.

"You underestimate the strength of this girl, Capitaine. She has a strong will and will not tolerate the intrudence. She has been difficult to control." Before Hook could burst into rage, she continued. "I will just have to use a stronger spell. And a little persuasion." She pulled her shawls around her frail frame. "The girl is already on her way home."

Hook slammed his hook into the wood of his desk. "What? How? How is that possible? She has no happy thoughts!"

Merlot sent him a poisonous look. "Sit down. You overreact." Hook glared, but did as she said. "She found a faery and flew home. But she will be back."

"Why?"

"Peter Pan," she said, "will grow up. As will everyone else in Neverland."

Hook grinned maniacally. "That's perfect! Brilliant! You can do that?"

"Of course. It isn't a simple spell and will take some time. Pan came here when he was but fourteen and has been on this island for nearly a century. When the spell is cast, within a week he will be old, too old to fly or fight. He will be defeated easily and you will be victorious."

Hook's grin grew. "Its perfect."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Emily landed at her open window, peering inside. She sighed.

Grandma Wendy was sleeping in her chair by the window, her face peaceful. A pang of guilt hit Emily. Had she been waiting this whole time?

She looked back at Tinker Bell, who was hovering impatiently by her ear.

"Tinker Bell," she said. "Watch out for Peter for me, will you?"

The faery crossed her arms and glared, but nodded anyway.

"Thanks, Tink." Emily tried to smile, but couldn't, so she just went inside and watched Tinker Bell fly away. "Bye."

Her voice woke up Wendy. The old woman opened her eyes and saw Emily standing before her in her deerskin dress and knotted brown hair. It took a moment for it to register in her mind what was going on.

"Emily?" she breathed, straightening in her chair.

Emily turned away from the window, giving her grandmother a small smile. "I'm back, Gran."

Wendy smiled back. "And did you enjoy your adventures?"

Emily shrugged. "Yes and no, but the experience was nice."

Gran seemed to understand and stood up. "Did you get enough sleep? You were only gone for a day. Why are you back all of a sudden? Where's Peter?"

Emily sighed and plopped down on her bed, covering her eyes. "I didn't know that when it was night here it was day there," she said, avoiding the question.

"You're avoiding something." Wendy tucked a strand of gray hair behind her ear. "Did you two have a fight?"

She groaned loudly, burying her face in her pillow. "How did you know?"

"A simple guess. Peter's not here, so I figured that since he has too much pride to admit he's wrong, you had a fight and you flew back yourself."

Emily sat back up and threw her hands into the air. "He's absolutely impossible, Gran! I mean, he's such a child! I can't even stand him! He's so infuriating---"

"And you're in love with him," Wendy finished matter-of-factly.

Emily groaned again and fell back onto her bed. "Like a sick puppy." Wendy laughed and Emily propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm pathetically sad, aren't I?"

"No dear. Not at all."

But she thought sadly, then why do I feel like it?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Three days passed uneventfully. Other than a good neck ringing from her parents about missing a day of school playing hooky (they wouldn't believe her story about being in Neverland), Emily managed all right. But the whole time, she felt this ache, just above her navel that gave her a guilty mind. Was this a heartache disguised as a sour stomach? Still, it almost felt as if the very right-hand corner of her lips were tingling...

It was on the night of the third day when everything changed. For better or worse, Emily wouldn't know until much later, but sure enough, just as she was getting into bed, out of the rain at the window appeared Peter Pan, soaked to the bone.

Emily and Wendy were both shocked.

"Peter!" they said in unison.

Peter looked at Emily and nearly smiled. He shook his head, splashing water around. His leaf suit was wetter than a pond, water dripping everywhere and leaving a giant puddle on the floor.

"Hiya, Emily."

Wendy got out of her chair and went to the door. "I'll get some towels and clothes. You'll catch your death, dripping wet like that. He should fit in your father's clothes."

Emily nodded, still staring at the dripping wet boy in her window. She waited until her grandmother had shut the door to speak.

"You came back for me," she stated through gritted teeth.

Peter nodded, breathless from the flight.

Then at the same time, Emily was crawling to her footboard as Peter rushed forward. They met in a deep kiss, one that screamed they should have talked first, but when you're desperately in love with someone you haven't seen in three days, you don't care.

Emily pulled away. "Why are you here? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me." She glared.

"Yeah, same here." He leaned in for another kiss, which Emily didn't seem to mind despite her anger, but the door opened and in walked Wendy, who was grinning from ear to ear. Peter noticed.

"What?" he asked, his voice cracking but still holding all the annoyed tones in the world.

"You two don't have to hide it from me," she said. "Its my daughter and her husband you'll want to worry about."

"W-What do you mean?" Emily stammered.

Wendy cast her an 'oh please' look as she handed Peter a towel. Then she handed one to Emily. "The front of your nightshirt is drenched, dear."

Emily looked at the front of her soaked white camisole top and yelped. But Peter had managed to catch a glimpse before she could get herself covered and was left grinning like an idiot. Wendy cleared her throat while Emily cuffed him over the head.

"Pervert," she muttered. "I'm still mad at you."

Peter rubbed the back of his head where Emily had hit him. "The feeling's mutual."

Wendy sat down in her chair, handing Peter a change of clothes: a T-shirt, flannel pajama pants and boxers. "Here," she said. "Change into these. Quick, before you catch a cold."

Peter gave her an odd look, but took them anyway. "Where should I change?"

"My closet's over there," Emily said, giggling. "The shorts go on the inside, just so you know. And tags in the back."

Peter glared. "I think I can manage."

Ten minutes later, Peter walked back out of the closet in the pajamas, looking like a normal teenager.

"Why are you here?" asked Wendy, picking up her needlepoint.

Peter sat down on the edge of the window, crossing her arms. "I'm here to take Emily back," he answered bluntly.

"What?" the Darlings asked in unison.

Peter looked at Emily. "Something's happening in Neverland that concerns you---"

"She's not going back, Peter," interrupted Wendy.

The boy looked at Wendy. "What?"

"She's not going back."

"We can't both have her, Wendy." Peter clenched his jaw.

"You're being stubborn."

"Who needs her more? Me or you?"

Wendy slammed down her needlepoint and stood up surprisingly fast for an old woman.

"Extremely stubborn! She is my granddaughter and she will do as I say!"

Peter stood and walked to Wendy, his voice rising. "She belongs in Neverland with me, not here!"

Emily managed to shout in, "Stop talking about me like I'm some kind of possession!" but they ignored her completely.

"She has to stay here with me!"

"I need her more than you do!"

"What do you know of my feelings?"

Peter threw his hands into the air. "There you go questioning again!"

"Stop it, the both of you!"

Peter and Wendy stopped shouting and looked at Emily, who was fuming at the end of her bed. Her eyes were red with unshed tears.

"Would you two just stop it?" she demanded. "You're fighting like an old married couple; it's sick! And I'm my own person! Quit saying where I can and cannot go wand when I'm to do it!" She looked to Peter. "What is it that's going on in Neverland?"

Peter swallowed and stepped away from Wendy. "It's bad. You have to come back and help."

"What's happening, Peter?"

He sighed and looked pleadingly at Emily. "Everyone in Neverland's growing up. All of them. Even me."

Emily was surprised that she hadn't noticed it until now, but he was right. Peter looked older: he was taller and his voice was deeper. All in all, he looked like a normal seventeen year old. A very good looking seventeen year old.

She couldn't stop herself from staring; it was just an impulse. "Peter," she breathed, eyes darting over his lean frame. "You have grown up."

Peter rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Would you stop staring and concentrate, please? This is serious!" He sighed. "I've grown up this much in three days," he stated worriedly. "Imagine was I'd be like in a week!" He shook his head, running a hand through his semi-dry hair. "We have to stop this. I could be old before to long."

"Do you know who is doing this?" Wendy asked, suddenly interested. "Is it Hook?" She sat down in her chair.

Peter shook his head. "No. He couldn't do this. But I think it has something to do with whoever's been messing with your dreams." He pointed to Emily.

"Messing with my---? What?" Emily gave him a confused look.

"When you had your first dream, something happened." He shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not sure how, but when I found you on the rock, there was this little piece of sapphire stuck in your wrist. No, it wasn't stuck. It was trying to get inside your wrist. I saw it move myself."

Emily looked at the band-aid on her wrist. She knew that the cut wasn't healing well beneath it, despite the large amounts of Neosporin she put on it. It always had this nasty bluish tinge to it. "So that's why it hurt. I dreamt about a sapphire ring that shattered and a piece cut my wrist." She winced as she remembered the pain. Her eyes clouded in memory as she thought about the dream. "There was this woman," she said. "She sounded really old, and she had a French accent." Emily's eyes refocused on Peter. "She was telling me to kill you."

Wendy looked at Peter. "You mean she got that when you weren't around? Where were you?"

"Look, she's not dead, is she?" Peter shot back.

"I told you to keep her safe!"

"No, you didn't! And she came back in one piece, didn't she? You shouldn't be worrying."

"Would you both just knock it off?" Emily whined, putting her hands to her temples. "Gran, this is kind of serious---"

"It's more than 'kind of' serious, Emily," put in Peter.

"All right, it's very serious. But if I'm needed to stop this---"

"You're not going, Emily," Wendy said firmly, "and that's final."

"God, Wendy!" Peter threw his hands in the air. "You're impossible! Look, Neverland needs her help." He lowered his voice. "I need her help."

"I said no, Peter."

"Oh, so you want me to die? Is that it? Because that'll happen if we don't stop this old hag. I'll grow up and die, Wendy. Then what'll happen to Neverland? Everybody there'll die, too!"

Wendy gave him an 'oh please' look, but this time it wasn't as kind. "Oh, so now you feel responsible for something?"

Peter glared at her. "I've always felt responsible for Neverland. Don't tell me I wasn't, because I was. I am."

Emily had heard enough. All this arguing made her sick. She got off her bed and went to her closet, walking inside and shutting the door. She stood there in the dark for a moment, sighting. Then, she turned on the light and changed her shirt from the camisole to a pale blue t-shirt that matched her flannel pants. Then she turned odd the light and walked back out. Not to her surprise, Wendy and Peter were still fighting.

Emily shook her head and walked up behind Peter, grabbing the back of his t-shirt. She yanked him back, away from her grandmother.

"I don't want to do this," she said, ignoring their protests, "but Gran, I need to help Neverland with Peter." Emily could practically feel Peter's triumphant grin burning the back of her neck. She turned on him. "But that doesn't mean you're back in my good graces, so wipe that grin off your face."

"Emily---" began Wendy.

"Gran, I have to do this. And in the end I'm going anyway, whether you want me to or not. This is my problem; I have to fix it."

"I was going to say 'be careful'."

"Oh."

Peter perked up. "You mean she can go?"

Wendy shrugged. "I see there is no stopping you, so why should I try?"

Emily hugged Wendy and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Gran. I promise I'll come back." She straightened and turned to Peter. "Faery dust, please."

"Pushy, pushy." But he pulled a little acorn from a chain around his neck, much like the one Wendy wore. Peter popped the cap of it off and poured some gold, glittery powder into his hand. He sprinkled it over Emily's head, watching her float into the air.

"I'll wait outside; the rain's let up." And she flew out the window. Peter made to follow, but Wendy spoke up.

"Peter," she said.

He turned back to look at her. Regret shone in his eyes. "Wendy..."

"There's no time for regret, Peter," she said, standing up. "We did what we had to do back then. We shouldn't wish we hadn't."

Peter kept his voice low. "I don't wish we hadn't. If we had, Emily would have never been born." He shook his head. "I'm not saying I don't long for the past; I'm saying that I wouldn't change what happened."

"I know." Wendy kissed his cheek. "Take care of her."

"Don't worry," Peter assured her, pulling her into an embrace. "I won't let anything bad happen to her. I promise." And then her let her go, both physically and emotionally, picking up his old clothes and taking off out the window where Emily waited. Wendy watched Peter take her hand and squeeze it, giving her a faint smile. Emily smiled back and kissed his lips shortly, and they flew off toward the horizon.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Madam Merlot cackled as she saw in her inner mind Peter Pan and Emily fly back to Neverland. Pan already looked older when he set foot on the beach, about twenty-one. In a few days he would be around forty; in a week, too old to raise a sword. She cradled an onyx pendant---a jet-black shell, strung on a black beaded chain---that put off a purple glow.

"Soon," she said to Captain Hook, who sat at his desk, "soon, he shall be too old to fight and to fly, and you shall triumph."

Hook grinned, showing yellow teeth. "Excellent."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Author's Note: okay, so i updated. do i get something for this? like candy? cause i like candy. But anyway... I know it's taking so long to update this story. i never wanna type it cause i'm too busy writing the sequel. yup, you heard me right! I write out this story in a notebook, and it's already done in there. I just have to finish typing it. but i never want to type cause I'm always writing in the sequel. it still needs a title, tho. but the moment this story is done on i'll post the sequel. trust me, you'll want me to. the ending is very bittersweet. but before i tell you too much about that...review! oh yeah, and i'm raising the rating for the next chapter as a safety precaution, just in case. It's kinda... provacative, i guess. until next time!


	9. chapter nine: Changes

disclaimer: sigh... i think we're on the same level of understanding when I say that I hate this...

Author's Note: all righty! now, i warn you, this chapter goes far beyond the Peter Pan spectrum and into the...oh, i dunno...adult fantasy novels? Or maybe the Titanic movie...somewhere in that area. But trust me, there is reason for the citrus. It all has to do with the spell over Neverland and Peter's sudden growth spurt. Okay, now read!

chapter nine:

Peter landed heavily on the sand, Emily behind him. He groaned and plopped down on the beach.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked, peering down at him.

"You don't know how wierd this is," he said. "I can hardly fly as well as I used to. I'm bigger now. There's more weight. I'm not as fast or agile anymore." Peter picked at the sand while a silence passed. Then he exclaimed, "How am I supposed to beat Hook when I'm as slow as he is!"

Emily sat down next to him. "Quit being so negetive," she said. "You'll beat him just fine." She picked at the sand as well. Another silence passed between them, the only sound the breaking of the waves on the beach.

"I'm sorry for the scolding I gave you back there," Emily muttered, a smile creeping to her lips.

"Keh. You call that a scolding?" Peter grinned slightly. "Your grandmother's given me worse."

"Oh, perfect. I have something to work toward." But she laughed anyway along with Peter, until it turned into laughing about nothing. She laughed so hard actually, that she fell backward and could hardly breathe, her eyes clamped shut. When she opened them again, Peter was holding himself over her, one of his knees in between her thighs, his chest just inches above her own. Her breathing shortened in an instant.

"Peter," she breathed. "What are you---?"

"I don't know what it is," he began, his own eyes showing confusion. Peter's breathing was heavy, labored, almost. He looked as though he were fighting in some mental battle, between two choices. Emily hoped he would win and pick the right one.

"Peter, are you all right?" she asked. She never thought she'd ever have to use it in her life, but it was all coming down to the 'Say No To Sex' videos Emily had watched in her first year of junior high. "You're kinda close..."

"Emily, when you left and this spell was cast and I started to grow up..." His eyes darted back and forth, studying her face. "I can't explain it. I can't explain this feeling," he whispered desperately, like a child who missed his mother. Or more even, his favorite companion. "I feel like...like I want to..." His face flushed red. "I just don't feel close enough."

"You're more than close, Peter. There's such a thing as personal bounderies." But despite what her mind was telling her, her body was practically screaming for Peter to be closer, nearer... Wait. She had never had thoughts like this. Was the spell effecting her as well?

"Emily, this feeling...I don't know if I wanna say it." Peter blushed again. "I just want to do it." Emily inhaled sharply when he said this. Peter's knee had slid up to the juncture of her thighs, pressing aginst the sensitive skin and making what felt like all the blood in her body rush to that spot. It throbbed and Emily gasped again, quietly this time. From above her, Peter said her name, but she couldn't hear it; her heart was beating in her ears so loud that she swore it was no longer in her chest. She sort of felt stupid that she was reacting this way over a small touch, but this was the first time she had ever been touched in that way. It made her dizzy just thinking about it.

"Peter," she said breathlessly. "We should---"

But he crushed his lips to hers before she could finish her sentence and held her arms above her head. Whatever spell had negated the eternal youth of Neverland had definitely affected Peter in more ways than one. Not that Emily minded terribly.

It was during this heated kiss that Peter broke away suddenly, as if remembering for the first time that he was doing something bad. He rolled away, panting, laying his head back on the sand.

"We shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't have done that. We have a villan to defeat." He shook his head.

But Emily wasn't satisfied with just that. She crawled across the sand over to where Peter lay and plucked up the courage to straddle his waist. The look of surprise on his face would have been humerous, had it not matched Emily's. She was just as surprised with herself for doing such a rediculous thing. But this strange need was greater.

She leaned down and kissed him hard on the lips, followed by his face, down his neck, to kiss his collarbone. Beneath her, Peter wrapped his arms around her waist, but they didn't stay there. His hands slid to her hips, then brushed over her rear to her thighs. Emily sat up, glancing at where his hands were placed to Peter's face, then back at his hands. Peter grinned wickedly and squeezed her thighs, making her giggle. He sat up as well, something not so easy considering she was sitting on his lap. But he managed it, and slid his hands back up to her hips. His grin had disappeared, and his brow drew together in confusion.

"I don't understand," Peter said, his voice raspy. "Why is it that I feel this way?"

Emily shrugged slightly, waiting impatiently for Peter to kiss her again. "I don't know."

"Why am I feeling like this?" he demanded quietly, green eyes large and pleading. "I've never felt this feeling before."

"Well, do you like it?"

Peter's grin returned. "Yeah, I think I like it a lot."

"You know," said Emily. "My parents would freak out if then knew I was kissing a boy like this."

"You make it sound like I'm a bad boy or something." But he grinned anyway.

Emily smiled slyly, something she didn't know she could do before. "So what if I am? Is that a problem?"

"Might be." Peter couldn't grin any wider, but Emily could see he was trying to. He kissed her on the neck, biting the skin lightly, then licking the bite. Emily put her arms over his shoulders, reveling in the attention. While he kissed her, his hands slid south of her hips to her behind, where this time they stayed. Emily brought his lips to hers and they kissed passionately.

"Peter," Emily said between a kiss.

"What?"

"I don't really want to, but shouldn't we be going? You're not getting any younger, no pun intended."

Peter sat back and sighed. "You're right." He grinned. "We'll finish this later." Emily giggled and he gave her rear a pinch, making her squeal.

"Peter!" she scolded, then cuffed him over the head. "I can't believe you!"

"Sure you can," Peter replied, laughing. But Emily got off his lap and stood up.

"Half of me prays that you don't stay like this," she said.

Peter cocked his head, giving her a sly look. "What about the other half?"

Emily looked at her feet, suddenly shy. "The other half hopes you stay at this age. It really hopes you stay at this age."

Peter stood up, dusting the sand off his backside. "C'mon, let's go back to the hideout. We have to get ready. We need a plan."

Emily raised a concerned eyebrow. Did he just say 'plan'?

"Are you feeling okay?"

"No," Peter shot back. "I've grown up faster than I ever should have and along with getting a lot taller, my way of thinking is a lot different. I feel..." He tried to think of how to put it. he settled with, "Rational." He shuddered.

"Oh." Emily trotted up next to him. "Geez, I hope that doesn't effect how you fight."

Peter nodded. "Me too."

"Here, you take this one." Peter handed her a sword from the rack by the fire. "Try it out."

Emily held it out, testing its weight.

"It's good. This one'll do fine." Emily watched Peter sort through the swords and pick out the one with the leaf detail on the hilt.

"So do we have a plan?" she asked.

Peter shrugged. "Rational but no idea what to do about it," he muttered.

"That's pleasing. Can't you come up with something?"

He sat down on the hearth and thought, staring blankly into the fire. His brows drew together in concentration; his lips in a tight line.

"What if we just storm in?" Emily suggested, trying to get him to talk like his old self. Peter shook his head.

"No. There's only two of us. That's not enough for an ambush, much less a surprise attack." Peter rested his chin in his hands, squinting at the fire. "We need to sneak on the ship somehow without being seen and get to where this old woman is. Then we can get rid of this spell then and there."

Emily sat next to him. "It sounds good, but when should we get going?"

Peter looked away from the flames and at Emily. "We'll wait until dark." His green eyes reflected the sparks of the fire, making them seem as if they were glowing. A smile grew on his lips. "We can spend the rest of the day practicing your sword techniques."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "My sword techniques? Please. You just want to---"

"---So what if I do?" Peter stood and put his sword by his bed. Then, to Emily's pleasant surprise, he pulled off the t-shirt Wendy had given him.

"What are you doing?" Emily asked hesitantly, setting her sword down as well.

"I have sand in my shirt," he complained, trying his best to scratch his back. His very tan, lean-muscled back. "I'm itching all over."

Emily cocked her head, stood, and walked over to where Peter was. "Everywhere?" she asked.

Peter looked down at her (he had grown considerably taller in the past three days; he's now about 6 foot 3 inches, whereas Emily is about 5 foot 6 inches, my height) and gave her an odd look, but nodded anyway.

"I can scratch your back for you, if you'd like," Emily said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Peter nodded and Emily scratched his back, slowly, sensuously, drawing invisible nonsense pictures in his skin. While she scratched, his eyes shut and he muttered, "You know, you really do need help with your swordsmanship."

That little comment earned his a rather hard scrape across the back and a shove. Emily put her hands on her hips.

"You're impossible!" she exclaimed, but snickered anyway.

Peter picked himself up off the floor, laughing. He put his hands up defensively. "I'm only telling the truth."

"So I'm really that bad?" she asked, laughing as well.

Peter nodded. "Yup. Wendy was much better." But the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Emily's eyes hardened. "Wendy played with toy swords against her brothers. I'm sorry I wasn't so lucky." This time the laughter was gone.

Peter had already stopped laughing, knowing he'd said something wrong. He wasn't sure what it was yet, though, being a guy after all. "What'd I say now?"

Emily shook her head. "You're always comparing me with her," she said, not looking at him.

Peter sighed, realizing what nerve he'd hit. "Em, you know that doen't mean anything. I've already told you: I don't feel that way about her anymore."

"I know." She sniffed at some tears threatening to spill over, and scolded herself for even thinking of crying. It was a stupid subject; she and Peter had been over this possibly a billion times. But for some reason she kept wanting to cry.

Knowing how tender this particular nerve could be, Peter asked with extreme caution, "Then why do you keep getting upset?"

Emily sighed this time. "I don't know; I ask myself that all the time. I suppose its because I'm jealous."

"Well don't be. I hate it when you get like that." He picked up his sword and examined the blade, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Now, about that practice..."

Emily stamped her foot, grinning despite the leftover traces of tears on her cheeks. "You're horrible, you know that?"

Peter grinned back.

Author's note: phew! I am so glad that chapter's over! So, what did you think of the begining of it? Now for an explanation: You see, the spell over Neverland is not only affecting Peter just physically, but mentally as well. So he's acting like a normal, testosterone-filled, eighteen year old guy who thinks of nohing but getting in a girl's pants. Which I honestly think is scary, but kinda hot at the same time. And as for why Emily is acting kinda whore-ish...you'll find out later.

I'm expecting to have about three more chapters in this. Its so sad! I don't want it to end, but all stories must eventually. Its like growing up, I s'pose.

Did you know a faery dies every time you don't review, too? So review and save the faeries! I believe! Do you? Review!


	10. chapter ten: Adventures

Disclaimer: ...mer...I hate this... I don't own any of them. Except Emily and Madam Merlot! They're all mine! Mine, you hear! You can't sue me for owning them! Hah!

Author's Note: Alright, get prepared to love me, then hate me. I won't tell you why, just that you will. Hate me, that is. Oh, and cliff-hanger warning as well.

chapter ten:

After "sword practice" ((cough cough wink wink nudge nudge)), Peter and Emily laid on the cool dirt floor, staring at the root ceiling with stupid smiles on their faces as they talked about nothing in particular. Emily's t-shirt had been flung somewhere (we'll just say it was because she got hot while practicing...), leaving her in a sports bra and her flannel pants, but from the looks of things (particularly the red, swollen look to both their lips), she didn't seem to mind. They laughed about something and Peter propped his head up, turning on his side to look at Emily.

"I want you to stay," he said seriously.

Emily looked at him, surprised. "What?"

"I want you to stay here in Neverland," he repeated.

This was sudden. "Peter, I...I don't know."

Peter sat up, looking down at her desperately. "Emily, when this is over, I want you---I need you---to stay here, with me." He shook his head. "I don't think I can stand watching you walk away again. It'd kill me."

Emily sat up too, thinking it all through. She still wanted to grow up, get married, have children... but something inside of her was telling her to stay, that this world needed her more than her own...

"All right," she said.

Peter looked heartbroken. "Emily, you have to stay---" he continued to plead. Emily laughed as he began stating all the reasons he needed her to stay.

"Peter."

He stopped his rambling, looking at her with confused green eyes. "What?"

"I said I'm staying."

"You---" Peter's eyes grew wide. "You're---you're staying? Really?" He jumped up and looked as though he'd start dancing for joy. Emily hoped he wouldn't.

"You're actually going to stay here?" he asked. "Here in Neverland with me?"

Emily nodded her head slowly. "If thats what you meant, then yes, I'm staying here with you. In Neverland."

Peter yanked her more than helped her up and kissed her on the lips, hugging her tightly. "You won't regret it," he said when he'd released her. "You'll have so much fun. We'll go on adventures every day! You'll be able to fly like me in no time. You could spend time with the faeries and, heck, you'll probably end up looking like one. Taller, of course. And---"

"Peter! I get the point." She rolled her eyes, catching a glimpse of the red sky outside, and then began the search for her missing t-shirt. While she was looking under Peter's bed, she suddenly remembered something.

"I promised Gran that I'd come back," she said, sitting up quickly.

From across the room Peter groaned. For two reasons, actually. One because of Emily's comment. Two because he had just found another leaf suit and dicovered that it was two small, which meant that he would have to continue wearing the t-shirt and flannel pants.

"What?" Emily looked at him.

"These don't fit anymore," he complained. "I've grown too much."

Emily watched him stare at her a moment, and realized what he meant. His voice had gotten deeper, and though he hadn't gotten taller, the muscles in his body had filled out a bit more. She cocked her head slightly, biting her bottom lip as she slipped into a daydream...

"Em, knock it off," Peter said, snapping Emily out of her dream. "What's your problem? See something you like?"

"Maybe." She continued her search for her t-shirt, crawling on her hands and knees around the room. "Good grief, Peter! Where did you throw my shirt?"

Peter looked up from his belt that he was trying to stretch out. "Um..." He looked around. "I don't know. Why do you need it?"

Emily gave him an 'oh please' look identical to Wendy's. "I'm crawling around on the floor without a shirt. Hello! Why else do you think I need it?"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno. Its not bothering me."

Emily growled and crawled to where Peter stood, getting to her feet and staring up at him. She poked him in the chest.

"Of course it doesn't bother you. You're a boy. It wouldn't bother you if I were standing here naked."

Peter feigned innocent thought. "No," he said, shaking his head. "It wouldn't."

Emily smacked him across the face, playfully, but hard enough to leave a sting. But her hand had been in contact with his skin long enough to feel the short stubble growing on his jaw line. She pulled back quickly.

"This is really starting to scare me," she said, holding her hand.

"Why?" Peter's hand shot to his cheeks, feeling his skin. His eyes grew wide as his hands slid over the beginnings of a beard.

"Oh crap!" he exclaimed, picking up his sword and looking at his reflection in the blade. "This is getting way out of hand." Peter grabbed his belt and tied it around his waist, attaching his sword sheathe to it and sheathing the blade.

"Are we leaving?" Emily asked. "Where's my shirt---?"

"Its over there." Peter pointed to the sword rack. "Hurry up; I'm not waiting any longer. Whoever put this spell on Neverland dies tonight."

Emily pulled her t-shirt on over her head and picked up her sword. "Wait! I need a belt."

Peter picked up a coil of rope and tossed it to her. His eyes didn't meet her's; they were far off in the distance, glazed with thought.

After tying the makeshift belt around her waist and sheathing her sword, Emily walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Peter," she said softly. "We'll get through this. We'll get you back to normal."

Peter inhaled deeply, as if steeling himself for something, then exhaled. "C'mon. Let's go."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Madam Merlot clutched her onyx pendant. She grinned at Captain Hook.

"They are coming to the ship, Capitaine," she croaked.

Hook looked to Smee, who was standing in the corner. "Smee, tell the crew to leave the ship and go ashore. You go with them. The Madam and I will handle Pan."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Despite his new weight, Peter was still a considerably good flier. He and Emily waited in the clouds for the moment, going over their plan. Peter examined his sword once more, then spoke quietly.

"Emily, just promise me some things."

Emily swallowed; bad things always started when he said those words. "What?"

"Stay out of as much danger as possible," he said, green eyes shinning. "And if anything happens to me---"

"It won't, Peter," she interrupted firmly. "Nothing will go wrong."

"If I get hurt," Peter continued, "bad enough to where I can't fight, leave here; get out of Neverland. It'll be too dangerous."

Emily set her jaw stubbornly. "You won't get hurt---"

Peter grabbed her wrist, squeezing it. "Promise me, Emily. Promise me that if I die, you'll leave as fast as you can."

"Peter---"

"Promise me!" Peter demanded, eyes pleading.

Emily hesitated, tears forming in her eyes. Why was he acting like this all of a suddem? Did he actually think he would die? "I---I promise."

Peter sat back, sighing. "Good. Then I want you to have this, just in case." He pulled from his pocket a small shell that spiraled in may shades of blues and purples. Then he stuck it in Emily's hand.

"This is yours," he said.

"What's it for?"

"It's a kiss." Peter managed a half-smile. "I found it on the Mermaid's Rock. You know, when we first kissed. For real." He shrugged. "Who knows? It might save your life."

"Oh, Peter..."

"Stop worrying." He looked over his shoulder at the ship below them. Nodding to himself, he pursed his lips, brow furrowing. "Let's get this over with."

They flew down to the ship, quickly and discreetly as possible. Peeking over the edge, Peter muttered a 'huh' sound.

"What is it?" Emily hissed, trying to keep herself airborne.

"Nobody's there," Peter replied. Hook must've known we were coming."

"So what do we do?"

"Wait here." Peter flew up over the side and onto the deck. Emily heard his feet touch the wood and then him call out as he drew his sword, "C'mon, Hook! Show yourself, you pathetic excuse of a codfish!"

Emily could hardly believe that the young man on the empty deck of the _Jolly Roger_ was the Peter Pan of her grandmother's stories. He sounded like her own father. It was almost frightening. But she stayed where she was, listening to Peter's new deep voice as he shouted.

"Get out here, Hook!" he yelled. "You and that old hag you're hiding in there! Come out here and fight!"

Emily's curiousity got the better of her, and she peeked over the edge of the ship. There Peter stood, his sword drawn at his side. He stared at the ship's cabins, eyes narrowed.

From the captian's cabin emerged Hook, his sword drawn as well. Behind him was a little old woman, wrapped in shawls, an onyx pendant glowing about her neck. Hook walked forward and raised his sword, bringing it down quickly. Peter blocked it, faster as lightning; their gazes met, green and blue eyes sparking.

"Well," said Hook. "If it isn't my arch enemy, Peter Pan? What a pleasant surprise."

Peter growled, his teeth bared in anger. "This is where it ends, Hook."

They glared at each other while the old woman smirked behind them. Hook pushed Peter away, making him turn his back to the woman. It was in this moment that Time slowed to a near standstill and Emily witnessed the most horrifying scene of her life.

Madam Merlot pulled from her robes a silver dagger and walked forward. At the same time, Hook swung at Peter again, forcing him to raise his own sword, leaving his sides exposed. And before the scream could leave Emily's lips, the old woman plunged her blade into Peter's ribs. Time reved back up.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Author's Note: ...hehe...I think i just did something very bad... it makes me happy that majority of you people don't know where I live...And remember that a faery dies everytime you don't review! flames are expected, so go ahead...i'll get my flame-retardant gear ready...Two more chapters left... I promise the ending's good!


	11. chapter eleven: Destruction

disclaimer: I don't own the Pan, sadly...geez, i wish i did...

Author's Note: ...What's the point of writing this? You guys'll just skip it to find out what ever the heck happens to Peter. I won't even try...

chapter eleven:

"No!"

Emily climbed over the railing, unable to fly due to the rage and sorrow that suddenly filled her being. She rushed toward Peter as he fell to his knees, eyes wide in surprise, his mouth open in a silent gasp. She caught him in her arms, craddling him like a young child. Blood spilled from the wound to pool on the deck around them. Hot tears dripped from Emily's eyes, falling from her chin onto Peter's heaving bare chest.

"Peter," she mouthed, touching his cheek with a shaking finger.

Peter grimaced and struggled to take a breath. The brightness of his eyes was already beginning to fade, turning the emerald color dull. A hand went to the wound at his side, then came back to his face. His eyes widened at how much blood covered his fingers. His shoulders shook with a laugh. "Well, this is new." He cast a glance at Hook and Madam Merlot. "I'm so glad that your man enough to get your hag to do your dirty work, Hook." Then out of nowhere, before Hook could retaliate, he weakly lifted his hand and flipped them both the bird. His hand dropped back to the deck with a thud, limp, and he gave Emily a tired grin. "Don't worry; I'm in need of a big adventure."

Emily stiffled a sob, nodding.

"Now get out of here," he said, his breathing becoming raspy and labored. "But I just want you to know---"

Emily shook her head furiously, lip quivering. "No, Peter. You won't die...You can't die..."

Peter chuckled softly, a bubble of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. "I want you to know that despite how confused you make me, I love you, Emily."

"Peter---"

His final breath escaped his pale lips, his green eyes going sightless. The silence on the ship was deafening, until Captain Hook began to howl with laughter.

"I've done it!" he exclaimed, dropping his sword and laughing hysterically. "Pan is dead! I'm free! He's dead! Huhzaa!"

Emily's lips tightened into a thin line. Rage filled her veins as hot tears spilled over her cheeks, sending adrenaline pumping through her body. She laid Peter's body down gently on the deck, and with a shaking hand, picked up his sword and, just like he'd taught her, she stood and spun, driving the blade into Hook's chest before he realized what was happening.

His forget-me-not blue eyes met Emily's, whose burned with a furious fire.

"Evil day," he said, then Emily yanked the sword free of his torso, and the captain fell face-first onto the deck. The girl turned on Madam Merlot.

"So you're the hag who gave me the nightmares and told me to kill Peter?" Emily croaked, her throat burning from crying.

"My name is Madam Merlot," the old woman replied, smirking. "You are quite gifted, being able to make it through my nightmares. That or foolish."

"Shut up," Emily snarled, jabbing the sword forward so the point just touched Madam Merlot's throat. "One little push," she hissed through clenched teeth, "and I could kill you faster than I killed him." She cocked her head to where Hook's body lay, her eyes never leaving the old crone's.

Despite the sword tip poking her dangerously in the throat, Madam Merlot cackled. "Stupid girl," she said in her rich French-accented voice. "Even if you do kill me, the spell over this island will remain. It will suck the youth from everyone and everything in this world until nothing is left--- Neverland will be nevermore."

"You're a witch!" Emily snapped. "Stop the spell and bring Peter back! Turn him back to normal!"

"Impossible. My power is only one way. I could never bring him back."

Emily put more pressure on the crone's neck, just enough to restrict breathing but not enough to cut skin. "Wrong answer." In one fluid motion, she pushed Merlot against the main mast and had the whole blade pressed against her wrinkled throat, Emily in her face. "Tell me how to bring him back, or I'll slit your throat."

"You could never do it," Madam Merlot spat, her grin revealing hideous teeth. "It takes great Power to bring someone back from the dead. And you are weak."

She pressed the blade deeper into her skin, drawing some blood. "Tell me," Emily hissed. There was no feeling in her hands or legs. There was just the black, sorrowful feeling to drive her; she just an empty husk. The emptiness ate away at her very being. Only rage and anger kept her going at the present; later, her sorrow would take over. Emily blinked back angry tears. "Tell me how to bring Peter back."

"You couldn't do it---"

And then blood spilled from Madam Merlot's neck as Emily slit her throat. The crimson elixer flowed over the shawls and dripped from the many pendants that hung on chains around her neck. Catching sight of the still-glowing onyx shell, Emily reached for it, knowing somehow this was the root of the spell...

But with the last of her strength, the old woman pulled a sharp pin from her hair and brought it down hard, catching Emily on the arm and tearing the flesh all the way to the elbow. Emily cried out in pain, clutching her upper arm, the hurt blinding her. She never saw Merlot fall to the deck and disintigrate into dust, being blown away by a rush of sea wind, leaving only shawls and pendants.

When Emily could see through her tears, she noticed the pile at her feet. With her blood-stained hands, she picked up the black shell and turned back to where Peter's body lay. She fell to her knees beside him, pulling out the "kiss" he'd given her before everything had gone wrong. A tear fell, landing on Peter's still chest.

"I'm so sorry, Peter," she cried, sobbing now, her right hand clutching the kiss while the left held the black shell. "I wish you weren't dead. I should've done something."

With a trembling hand, Emily placed the kiss in Peter's open palm and closed it around the shell. Then she reached for the dagger partially embedded in his side and pulled. It slid out with a sickening squelching noise. After somberly tossing the blade aside, she brought her hand up to his blank eyes and shut them, just as she shut her own in a hopeless attempt to ebb the flow of tears.

Emiy only wanted him back, that was all. To be close to his warm body, to be held by him. Was that so much to ask? She lay down next to him, putting an arm around him and placing her head on his shoulder.

"How could you have been so stupid?" she asked. "How could you have let yourself get killed? Huh?" She sniffed. "What stories am I supposed to tell my children now that you're dead?" Emily looked at the onyx pendant still in her hands. Her brows furrowed. "It would have never happened if it weren't for this." And she threw it as far as she could. It shattered upon impact with the mizzen mast. Emily began to sob, and because of this, she never heard Peter's heart begin to beat.

"Damn you, Peter," she said. "Damn you and your stupid pride." Emily weakly beat his chest with her fist; her injured arm was beginning to go numb. She hit his chest again, this time recieving a small "oomph" from the so-thought corpse.

Emily gasped and sat up, finding herself staring at a clearly alive Peter.

"Didn't I tell you to high-tail it outta here if I got hurt?" he said weakly.

"Oh, Peter!" And before Peter could say anything else, Emily leaned down and pressed a kiss to his dry, blood caked lips. "Your alive! But how?"

Peter sat up easily, checking his side. The wound from Madam Merlot's dagger was gone, having left only a small scar. He shrugged. "How should I know?"

Emily bit her bottom lip, then pulled him into a hug, burrying her face in the crook of his neck.

"I thought I'd lost you," she said. "I thought I'd be alone forever."

Peter wrapped his strong arms around her. "Sorry." He held her tight, then pulled away, raising a questioning eyebrow. "I think the spell's had an effect on you, too."

"Why do you say that?"

Peter looked Emily in the eye, then at her chest (to his delight), then back to her eyes, giving her the "don't tell me you don't notice because I sure do" look.

Emily looked down at her chest, let out a small scream, then smacked Peter. She was pleased to find that his face was smoother, the stubble gone, but she was pleased only for a moment. Apparently Peter was right, because her breasts were larger than they should be. She could tell she looked older, but she _felt_ older, too. Well, there went three years of her life.

"I really hope this wears off," Emiy sighed. And then Madam Merlot's words hit her.

_Stupid girl. Even if you do kill me, the spell over this island will remain. It will suck the youth from everyone and everything in this world until nothing is left...Neverland will be nevermore._

"Peter."

"What?"

Emiy met his eyes. "We have to leave."

Peter ignored her like he always did when he heard something he didn't want to and looked around, seeing Hook's dead body and Madam Merlot's pile of shawls and beads. "Whoa!" He stood up and walked over to Hook, kicking his side. "What happened while I was out?"

Emily stared at the dead pirate. "I killed them," she said dismally, her eyes glazing over as she began to remember her ferocity and hate. "Both of them." She shook the image out of her head. "But that's beside the point." She reached forward and grabbed Peter's arm. "We have to leave Neverland before there's nothing left." And she dragged him toward the ship railing.

Peter pulled away. "Why? If they're gone, Emily, then we can stay here!" he said hopefully. "Just like you said!"

Emiy shook her head quickly. "No, Peter. You don't understand. The spell. The spell that she put on Neverland. It's still here. Even though she's still dead, we'll still get older. And I broke the shell. I think I sped it up. Or she did. Before she died. I don't know! But we have to leave. C'mon!"

"Why?" Peter insisted, placing his fists on his hips.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Emily cried, pleading. She lowered her voice. "Peter, Neverland is going to be destroyed."

A look of realization appeared on his face, then denial. "No," Peter said, shaking his head. "No. That can't happen. What'll happen to everyone?"

"I don't know. But we have to leave, otherwise we'll be forgotten. Everything here will be forgotten." Emily looked at her feet, not wanting to see the despair on Peter's face. "The faeries, the mermaids, the Indians---Peter, they'll all be gone. Everything. Even flying."

"No!" Peter yelled firmly.

"Flying...Peter, flying is the only way out of here. We have to get back to London before Neverland's destroyed. Otherwise we'll never get home---"

"This is my home, Emily! I can't just leave!"

"You're going to have to! Or you'll die too. And I couldn't bear to lose you again. Please, Peter---"

Just then, the ship shook violently. It rocked so much that Emily and Peter were both thrown to the deck. Above them, they could see the stars begin to wink out one by one, until they all fell from the sky and into the sea, sending clouds of steam billowing into the air.

"Peter, we have to go!" Emily shouted above the hissing of the sinking stars. "Now!"

Peter looked at her, then picked himself up and looked at the island. The stars were falling there as well, setting the forests ablaze. The young man winced as the sound of screaming ripped through the air to his ears, ringing horribly, echoing through his brain. Tears slipped down his cheeks.

"Tink," he mouthed, unable to emit any sound. His eyes reflected the fires on shore like great green mirrors. The whole isle was flaming now, an unholy beacon in the dark night. And yet more stars continued to fall, leaving black gaps in the sky. Emily tugged on Peter's arm.

"Peter..." Emily pleaded, on the verge of tears.

Peter took her hand and pulled her up as he flew, not even looking at her. Emily steadied herself, and began praying that they would make it home...

Behind them, a star crashed into the _Jolly Roger_, the ethereal fire catching the wood almost instantaniously. There was only a split second between when the star hit the ship and when the fire reached the ammunition below deck, and the heat from the following explosion was enough to singe Emily's feet despite how quickly they were flying. Briefly Emily wondered how Peter was flying so quickly when there was no possible way he could be thinking happy thoughts. But she quickly changed her thoughts back to praying. They would need it.

Neither of them looked over their shoulder, for they didn't want to see the blazing inferno that was Neverland. Below the seas dried up from the intense heat of fallen stars, leaving the sea creatures and mermaids gasping dor air until they were evaporated. The sky itself was ablaze, and this Peter and Emiy had to see, for they had to dodge each and every one of the falling stars. They were nearly there...

But Peter heard the final screams, and instinctively he stopped and turned. What he saw tore his heart out. Or more, what he _didn't_ see.

A growing darkness was emerging from the center of a desert-like landmass. It was spreading across the land like a flood of black nothingness, swallowing everything, leaving nothing.

Emily tugged at his arm hard. "C'mon, Peter!" she screamed. "We have to hurry!" She dragged him forward until he moved, and they sped toward the only speck of light in the sky: home.

And just when London came into view, they felt themselves falling, losing altitude and speed...there was the window...just a bit further...

Emily and Peter rolled into the nursery, tumbling into the footboard of Emily's bed. Wendy, still in her rocking chair, looked at them, surprised.

"What's going on?" she asked. Emily gave her a sad look, then watched Peter stand and walk to the window, looking desperately for his star, his home...

..._second star to the right and straight on till morning..._

But it was gone.

..._Neverland will be nevermore..._

Nothing more than a dark spot in a starry London sky.

..._spreading across the land like a flood of black nothingness..._

Peter cried out in a sob as he fell to his knees and wept.

Emily crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around him, not even bothering to console him with words. What good were they in a time like this? For Emily felt the same loss as he did. She let him cry. And she cried with him.

Wendy shook her head. "I don't understand. What happened?"

Emily opened her mouth to speak, but it was Peter who managed to say something. "Its gone," he sobbed. "Neverland's gone."

Author's Note: (sniffle) WAAAAAAAHHHH! (looks at hands in disgust) WHAT HAVE I DONE! (sniff) The epilogue is good, I promise. Very bittersweet ending. But you'll like it! Please review and tell me if I should die or not for destroying the only cool place in the entire world.


	12. epilogue: A New Beginning

disclaimer: wow. this is the last time I'll be writing a disclaimer that says I don't own Peter Pan for this story. How sad... but note I said "for this story."

Author's Note: Yay! Epilogue time! Woot!

epilogue:

Heather looked at her mother with disappointed eyes.

"So what happened next, Mum?"

Her mother sighed, sapphire eyes glazing as she thought about. She smiled.

"They lived happily ever after." Emily glanced at her husband sitting at his desk with his bare feet propped up, reading a book. His sun-bleached brown hair hung messily in his eyes, probably obscuring his vision, but he seemed not to mind. "Or so far, anyway."

Heather looked from her mother, then to her dad, then back to her mom. Her jaw dropped. "You mean---?"

Emily grinned, her eyes sparkling at her husband, who was so caught up in his book that he was oblivious to everything around him. His eyes darted back and forth across the page, taking in every word. Or so she thought.

"Telling her that boring old story _again_?" he complained before he even shut his book and put it down. He turned in his chair, his bright green eyes glowing. He grinned.

"I might be," Emily defended. "And who said it was boring?" She pouted. "I thought I did good."

He stood and walked over to the couch, sitting next to his wife. "You're not as good as Wendy was, but you've gotten better."

Heather looked between them, mouth still agape. "You mean that my dad is Peter Pan?"

"Was," Peter corrected. He frowned, staring into space. "Peter Pan died along with Neverland. He only exists in memories now."

"But you were him once," Heather continued, ever the optimistic. "This is so cool!"

Peter and Emily chuckled, then Emily tapped her daughter on the shoulder. "All right, off to bed with you. School tomorrow."

Heather groaned, but sauntered off up the stairs anyway.

Emily sighed. "She's getting more like you every day," she said, cuddling next to her husband.

"Let's just hope that she doesn't run away to Kensington Gardens, huh?" Peter kissed his wife's forehead.

"Or that a boy who did will take her away." Emily smiled up at him.

"She'll be fine." Peter glanced at the stairs, winking at the pair of green eyes that resembled his own that peeked from behind the banister. Heather jumped and ran back to her room, embarrassed that she had been caught yet again by her father, who seemed to know all the hiding tricks and places in the book. When she was gone, Peter continued. "Everybody grows up. We all do eventually." He grinned and kissed Emily's lips.

Even though Peter Pan no longer existed, his legacy still lived on, along with the memory of a place where no child grew up. But all children grow up someday. Whether it be physically or mentally or emotionally or spiritually, we are born, we live, and we die. Such is the cycle. Because growing up is part of living. And living in itself is one of the greatest adventures of all.

**-The End-**

Author's Note: (throws confetti and streamers) Yay! Its done! The first story I've ever finished! And yet its so sad at the same time... But party anyway! If I knew all you people that read this story I would tell you to come to my house and join the party, but alas, I don't. But you guys can have a party anyway!

I want to thank you all for reading this story and giving me lots of support in your reviews. I wouldn't have posted this much if it weren't for you guys. I never really thought this story would be accepted well on but you guys proved me wrong, like you always do. I especially want to thank Kayla Kellerman, who was my rough draft-reader and literally threatened to kill me if I didn't write more. She also gave me plenty of ideas and really helped this story take the shape it did. Also, I want to thank Angela Schlitter (Angie: If you're reading this now, I prolly spelled your name wrong like I always do. Sorry. And if I did spell it write...Woot!) and Laura Ashley for being the two people who proofread the later chapters while the rest of you guys were stuck waiting on chapter eight. Thank you guys so much. You don't know how much I love you all! Wow, I'm making this sound like I'm leaving forever. I'm not, thank God...Thanks again for reading and reviewing like I pleaded with you to do in the summary, and I hope to see your names on the reviews for the sequel, _The Greatest Adventure_. Sounds like a Homeward Bound movie. But think about it and you might figure out what it's about. Bye y'all, and God bless.

Koda-san


End file.
